Returning to my roots,
I feel the motherland
Beneath these tired feet
And hear the language
Of the wretched fathers.
It is today I will roam,
Streets crawling with
Something I long ago
Had hoped was forgotten.
Terrified of where
I am and of where I am from,
Let me fall into the wet
And ancient ground.
To stay here with the ants,
Creating instead of raping.
Waiting for the sun,
To forget dirty humanity.
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