Even though the Master’s lash of hard leather made a map on the back of my ancestors
There is no way for me to find my homeland
Whose breath do I breath?
Whose legacy do I carry?
I can never verify if the blood of kings flows through me
A history I do not get to see
Because when they were shipped out to sea
Records kept in only number and build
Height and weight and usable skills.
Names washed away and kept from me.
And here I sit. Process of elimination.
Evoking the names of tribes, with no semblance of my relation.
Only in a Master list of ethnicities denied humanity
Can I seek the source of the breath inside of me.