I woke up, I cannot find the earth.
So I spoke up, just to remind myself
I am, I am, I am
still worth a ****.
I choke up but I am.

Where is the earth,
I ache for the soil
which caught me from birth
I take for granted that I was granted the spoil.
Is it genuine if it was not a choice, am I loyal?
Has it been a gift to get a thought and voice,
or do I sit
where I get  hit
because my spot
is one that taught
my father that none
get done,
that to win is hardly ever to have won.
To begin to disregard is to sever from what you’d begun.
You've been a coward too clever to run.
Are you empowered that you never were a son?
Instead devoured forever a family by the web a liar spun?