Growing up Chinese
I long to be offended
To be miffed
Would be so wonderful
To take things personally
To have it be about me.
But I don’t have that luxury
Rather, I’m assaulted
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words command the weapons.
PC may annoy some
But try a Poll Tax
I know not barbs to the heart
But fists to faces.
I don’t hate censors
But the sense, knocked into us
That we need the love of others
By learning to hate ourselves.
I don’t know insults
But orders in a war of centuries
Whose shots are still being fired
By those who call them.
