Thursday, May 20, 2010

Indian King


You shipped me off to a land unknown.

I had a function to you.

You made my life about your purpose.

Like a machine or product,

At your disposal.

I am only flesh and bone, blood and nerves.


You called me feral, invasive, nuisance,

As my function was incomplete.

Why do you call me such things?


In my land, the land you stole me from,

I was loved, I was love personified,

A farmers friend, a valued being.

Treasured and adored.


Now I am shunned, despised,

A thief and filthy squatter.

This is on you hands.

You have made me into this savage.

You kidnapped me from the place I called home.

You had no right.

You trapped me, caged me.

You are to blame.

Any blood spilt is yours to clean.

It smears your hands, thick crimson.


I am just trying to live in a land that is not my own.

I am an adapter, a survivor, a hero.

A beauty you will never understand. 

  


GW ©

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