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Some days are Better Than others I wish I could be Proud Of my roots Sometimes... Sometimes I am Most of the time... I remember My upbringing The sheer Trauma of it And all The lesser hurts That still Make me rage Make me ache Make me Weak Lesser All the stereotypes True No laughing Matter But it's not just that My mother country Is the world's Enemy Hitler would be proud But it's not just that I remember Being the only one Like me At my school To be mocked All that I Was good for My friends Share awesome things About their roots But I Must always Hold back my tongue I can never Know their pride So fierce It's funny Mine's not even The "cool" country In its Continent It doesn't have Special comics or pop Its the black sheep With popular neighbours Shackled By stupid traditions Run down And crowded up All these years I've been running Trying to Jam my stupid square peg Into another culture But I know In my heart of hearts I'd only ever Be an outsider To