I came from a long line of
perfection and taste.
From a nest of vaulnerbility
and a womb of fear.
With wounds to sew up
and problems to paste.
All these stains they rubbed
but still left a smear.
It's our sapling they
trampled upon.
It's our tree that
they uprooted.
Now a nation is in ruins
and a people almost gone.
It's our hearts they tore up
and it's our souls that they looted.

Fast forward a century,
when blessed ones have dreams.
And while others suffer elementary,
another ignorantly gleams.
There soon comes a time in life
when it really becomes clear.
A given misconception, fathomed
after many a year.
That never shall kitten's daughter,
mingle with leapard's child.
For such was an act beyond reapair
to which they be reviled

But children do as children do.
They leave the past behind.
But time is true as it is due,
to bend that which was twinded.
And so to those who had no chance,
whose lives were downright stolen.
I will but stive to hance,
that which has seemingly fallen.
To raise my mother land,
to reconstruct a future.
For in making something greater
It's a wound that I first must suture.
But on my journey to giving back,
I must first give to myself.
The gift of education
has more power in itself.