I'd like to make myself believe that the ground I stand on is not tainted with the sons of the planets past. Not I wish not for it to get cleaned. But for my mind to do the cleansing. Must I abandon who I am for the soiled soil beneath me. I cannot carry the weight of a thousand people's deaths against it. Territory means nothing. This slice of dirt doesn't run through my veins. This is not where I belong.
YOU ARE READING
Infinity
PoetryA dazzling view of words. Multiple perspectives of life and my deepest thoughts and feelings. I write to relieve it all. Thanks for reading! ~Highest rank: #102 in poetry~