A Hybrid Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

A hybrid

By being a hybrid
I feel all the hardship.

Taking side, suicide
Are the dots in same line!

I saw me in Andes,
By living with Métis,
Mostly felt rejected,
And rarely accepted!

Laughed at me when alone,
Remembered what had done.

Had removed pigeons' eggs,
Put the hen's in place.

And eggs hatched…
So, hen's chicks were pigeons'! ! !

Lost were the hatched chicken,
Also, lost were pigeons.
Not the hens…

The hens were enslaved!

Regardless of right, wrong,
The fact was only one,
Babies were main victims!

See me in two ladies,
In the Ruth and Pauline,
Red & White, Cherokees!

The mirror talks with me:
"You, poor thing, are victim,
Your flesh, bones, and veins,
Are in the wrong skin…"

How to go against one?
How about parents' love?