THEM, THE LAND & US
I’m traversing lands I don’t belong,
but are due to me.
Where I’m listless wheat and disarming unease.
Where rolling hills and swathes of white are me.
Chisel in hand,
carving borders with abandon.
Forming nations, places
with identities changed.
Digging assets.
Raw, grooved, tough.
Turned into buildings,
Skyline adorned.
Apathy sits with progress,
partnered.
Extract to gain,
taking to displace.
As we till, burn and scar.
Sitting in apartments,
rumbling underneath
as
waves lick land filled with the dead and their screams
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