My roots grow from branches
formed deep in the metropolis
of the earth.
Breathing in the oxygen
from the expired lungs of
my ancestors.
This is my place, my people.
poems as delicate as the fruit itself, and as thought-provoking as the sour aftertaste. All Rights Reserved... More
My roots grow from branches
formed deep in the metropolis
of the earth.
Breathing in the oxygen
from the expired lungs of
my ancestors.
This is my place, my people.