Walking Desert

I never thought it a desert

Nor did I ever judge the sands

I thought it a home

That I could hold in the palm of my hands

Sticking to my curly hair

And the shoes I wear

I became a walking desert

Completely unaware

Of the sands of my people

Clinging to my form

I wore as proudly as a soldier

Wearing his uniform




They wonder why

She sits there

Speaking language she didn’t choose

Getting much too close

To forgetting her mother tongue

Wings sealed in a box

Her brown locs

Painted blonde

They wonder why she changed

She only did it

To survive