Newe

nothing brings my feet to return

knowing nobody in the land I was born into

my ancestors are long dead

buried burned scattered I know not where

the few people who say they know me

have not spoken heart to heart

sat to listen in a thousand moons

the last time we sat they spoke

of the many things they had said done

& when I tried to say I too have soared

they could only see me in terms as a child

of who I had been in the way back when

fear holds their feet to the ground tight

limits their thoughts ways of being

& to think of me as a forsaken child

hurts them because they did nothing

felt they could not get in the way

yet see no hand of theirs in my making

while I felt the lack of theirs every day

I grew strong without them their ways

& of all that scares them that is the most

a spirited child who found their own way

who in the end learned not to need them

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