I, Too, Sing at the Table

My parents were my masters
Giving me commands to follow
I obeyed them whole
All throughout thirteen.

I learned, I played, I ate
All after my parents' will
They nodded, agreed, complied
Before a piece was played.

That was before I met him, the darker brother
Laughing and strong and daring
Full of strength and hope
Led my attention away.

Entering the kitchen
He showed me the big, round table
Everyone is invited
But will all be served?

Today,
We are squared, cramped
Into a tiny kitchen, lacking natural light
Eating bread and butter.

Tomorrow,
There will be open seats
Welcomed by my Asian family
Reserved for everyone, including my darker brother.

And that will be the time
When everyone at the table
Will sing the same song, unashamed —

"We, too, are all Americans."

This poem is in homage to "I, Too, Sing America" by Langston Hughes. The top image is a piece of art that I made. In the photo, I am portraying how not all people are served at dinner the same.