Born in Tall Weeds

My blood is mixed, and my skin lies.
I lived in the Land of Confusion, under angry skies.

I am from tall weeds.
My place of Solace and Serenity.

I am from under my bed.
My place of Secrets and Safety.

The big Mulberry tree was my refuge,
and the old riverbed was my solidarity.
Out of sight, out of mind.

I "learned" with leather belts, loud shouts,
bumps, briuses, and black eyes.

Long silences and young lonely days.
Where the dinner table didn't make you a happy family.

This prison is made of cracked walls, chipped paint,
and sighed of desperation at night.
it had wide open doors, but the inmates had no fight.

I grew up too fast, because there was too much work, and friends came last.

My hands were rough, and my muscles were strong.
The labor was tough, and the days were long.

I finally escaped the spiderweb-asylum.

Fear, oppression, guilt and torment kept me strangled.
But courage has freed me, and I am no longer entangled.