may I never bow,
kowtow,
do the jig that’s expected of me,
a wind-up toy,
the good native who knows just how to act, talk,
how to be
may I never bow,
kowtow,
do the jig that’s expected of me,
a wind-up toy,
the good native who knows just how to act, talk,
how to be
Night gathers the shards of my splintering heart,
mending fractures.
Ever mindful,
knowing,
that tomorrow may shred it all apart …