Here’s a song I wrote in 2017. Although it’s not a good-quality song, I’m sharing it here anyway, since I’m aiming to be in touch with myself, as a writer, and also to share whatever that is “true” –inspired by Maurice Sendak’s words:”If it is true, you tell it”.
*warning: poor pronunciation and singing.
The Misplaced Piece of Myself
by Nayoung Jin
What’s the misplaced piece of yourself
you find impossible to get back?
Mine has something to do with the frogs and my little self nicknamed bookworm.
Or other times she would be called sloth by the other kids.
So, she was either bookworm, or sloth then.
Um-m, yes, she was.
Defending the frogs at the pond against these upper graders,
even though my voice was a bit weak, I still tried standing tall.
Then, having enough of their snickering attitude
I instead wrote some letters to
my school about those frogs. And dropped them in a mail slot.
Back then there wasn’t much fun in life
other than
this pond upon the hill,
and a miniscule game gadget
of ‘hatch your egg, then you get to raise your pet.’
And lastly a friend holding a tiny square paper
coloring it rainbow with her paints
then dropping a few lines there for me to read
which went just like this:
although other girls may not like you,
but I love you.
You’re my good friend.
Although other girls may not like you,
but I love you.
You’re my good friend.
Although other girls may not like you,
but I love you.
You’re my good friend.
m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m m-m-m-m-m
Instrumental break – Harmonica solo
Then,
one Monday afternoon
from the speakers
in the classrooms,
BOOM,
flew out the principal’s voice
reading my 3 page-long letters
about why we shouldn’t throw stones at the frogs in our school pond.
Then this bit about who I am,
and also in what grade.
I,
a little surprised to hear about myself,
didn’t know what to think,
except to feel
bubbles of hope
slowly foaming inside me
that the frogs may be left alone
and can hop, hop in peace
now
and I can go back
to read
and look at all these plants.
What’s the misplaced piece of yourself
you find impossible to get back?
Mine has something to do with the frogs and this little one nicknamed bookworm.
Or other times she would be called sloth by the other kids.
So, she was either bookworm, or sloth then.
Um-m, yes, she was.
Defending the frogs at the pond against these upper graders,
even though my voice was a bit weak, I still tried standing tall.
Then, having enough of their snickering attitude,
I instead wrote some letters to
my school about those frogs. And dropped them in a mail slot.
-The metronome in the background is there to give this song an old “timey” feel.
