The Gene


Somewhere between the ages of ten and seventeen

I seemed to have lost that Asian gene

By that I mean, the one that makes me conform to stereotypes

To the same gripes

That every valedictorian

Historian, inventor of the Delorean

Has fallen gory victim in

I lost that drive

The will to thrive in a sea of cannibal fish

That poison their own meat to take the seat

At the top of the mound of bodies

That somehow has collected on the ocean floor

…wait there’s more

There’s a score to settle,

With me and my heritage

Which is somehow linked to my student ranking percentage

To the first letter of the alphabet

You can bet I got beef with this biz

With this saying that I’m supposed to be a whiz

A real wunderkind, a genius, a prodigy

Could ya stop it please?

To be honest, there’s a direct correlation between the nonsense spread in the nation

And the sensation I get when I’m asked if I’m really Asian

Who cares about relations or equations

I can tell you how this line looks

It’s goin down in the history books

It’s the mystery of why school is suddenly about yellow supremacy

When being number one is and always has been a fantasy

Not meant for me

Because I’m not one of many

I was not mass produced in a factory for a penny

I got smarts plenty

Hell I’ve gotten more Z’s in class than any

Other joe schmoe in a sweater vest or polo

And I don’t need the DNA or the A

In my race to somehow find my place

I don’t disgrace or dishonor my family

What I choose to do will only define me

I’m more than a pair of 23 chromosomes

I am my own

And I can hold my own

I don’t disown my identity

I embrace individuality, personality


Please step off your high horse for a second to speak with me

To understand me

To see me

While I may look you in the eye with an unintentional slant

Or with such an accent that may disenchant

Hear me for a moment

Listen not to the skin

But to the soul

The whole of it

The holes in it

The broken logic that somehow slipped through the cracks

The attacks, the facts

I’m part of the race

The rat race, the grand chase

The many paths we take

The many mistakes we make

I’m not fake

I’m 100% percent made in reality

I am not defined by nationality

Or a technicality

No, my genes are designed with originality

Tailored to my size and rationality

If you look carefully

You’ll see the unique tears

The colors

The designs

My own personal lines of existence




Also posted on

That's a personal writing blog.

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741