Wednesday, August 18, 2010

The Accident of Birth.

This one already sounds dated. Hah.

The Accident of Birth.

Where are my seasons?
The ones I was promised,
The summers so warm and winters so cold.
Where are my trees?
The one that stood tall,
And only grew mightier as they grew old.

Where are the condors?
The black bears and the bobcats?
Defiant, majestic, and fearless they'd stand.
And where are their children?
What became of their bloodline?
And where are the ones that robbed all their land?

Where is my river?
So cool and so cleansing.
That comes from the ocean and runs through my town.
And where is my homeland?
With its warmth and it's comfort,
No robbers, rapists, or murderers around.

What am I?
Am I white? Am I black?
Will I die by some rope, or do just fine?
What world will I see?
When I open my eyes?
1491 or 2009?

No comments:

Post a Comment