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Maybe this is not a poem...

In my heart in my soul I am Polish
I am prone to melancholy
To taking life seriously
To worry
To be reflective, poetic
To crave the cherries, the raspberries
Fruits of the forest
To be passionate
To be quick to anger
And prone to want to debate
To love my pickles, the dried meats
To fight for justice
And always ready to defend
In this land I call home for over 25 years,
Australia
Beautiful, varied, multicultural
Providing opportunities for us all
An abundance of food
A welfare system that looks after us
Providing security, medical care and education
I love you both, and I am torn about who I really am
I am a mixed bag of cultures
I eat the variety of multi cultural food, I dance to the south American rhythms, I call this country my home and I speak two tongues

Author's Note

If you have a better idea of the genre this belongs in, let me know, perhaps it's not a poem, but yet again I felt a need to express from my soul this confusion about which country or nationality my soul identifies with. Also, I wrote this on my phone, so there may be more mistakes than usual.

Reviews

[emmajoy]

' I love you both, and I am torn about who I really am ~ I am a mixed bag of cultures. '

Better than not knowing where you started or where you are now, perhaps?!

How wonderfully lucky you are to have extreme influences: the best of both, the charm of reverses in spite of the occasional pause and ponder! Your writing is gently put but holds a special power, the integrity of your birth place. Plus the relaxed acceptance and appreciation of what has made you that much more. A wonderful poem, Bela,