Why I Wrote This Poem
Sometimes, the deepest stories are the ones no one hears.
Not because they were never told —
but because they were told in silence, in gestures, in pain that had no words.
This poem came from a memory —
a quiet ache I carried from the time I was barely able to speak.
Too young to understand the world,
too small to know what people expected of me,
and yet… somehow already made to feel like I had failed.
I don't remember everything.
But I remember the feeling.
The confusion.
The sting.
The loneliness inside a home that should have held me warmly.
Years later, I found the courage to write about it.
Not with blame.
Not with anger.
But with poetry — to make peace with a wound that never quite healed.
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🌍 Why I Wrote It in Multiple Languages
Pain is not bound to one language.
Neither is love.
Neither is silence.
I wrote this poem in English, Korean, Chinese, Japanese, and Urdu
because I know I'm not the only one who felt this.
Somewhere, a child like me is still growing up —
trying to understand why their efforts go unseen,
why love feels conditional,
why quiet hurts more than noise.
No matter where you're from,
if your heart understands this…
then this poem was written for you,
in your language too.
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💬 A Note to the Reader
I don't want pity.
I don't want praise.
I just wanted to turn something painful into something beautiful —
and maybe… help someone else feel a little less alone.
If this speaks to you, thank you for listening.
You already understand more than most.
— The Author