I do not belong
In the convents

The wheat, is on me, everywhere
And a foreign language, inside me

Fields of uncertainity on me
They feed, they grow inside me

I think I do not belong
In the convents

Where do I belong? Who am I?
Smell my armpits, that must be I

I lust on my mother's language
I lust to find acceptance of me

I do not belong
In the convents

Am I sorry for my government ?
Am I sorry for myself ?

I crave the vision of unseen fields
I argue for the unaccredited history

But I know I do not belong
In these convents

Pk