| Roots
I used to walk and walk away from my home, away my back to the gnashing no family portrait back there it had been years since we had all crowded, awkwardly in front of the lying lens then we took our own photos within the dark worlds we arrived at after our roots were pulled up and we raised yelling hell to be noticed again cast, hungry and confused we ran our hands over the blues and in the swallow of tears we tasted the numbing ache and the child was gone shalome � 2005 |