This land is not my land
I grew up on an island
that I thought was home.
Time has taught me that I was an alien living in foreign soil.
I am of no man’s land.
I don’t belong there or anywhere.
I was bought to this place.
I thought that here I was free.
In the absence of knowledge, I prized the fragments of pottery from the soil. They were to be found in the most remote parts of the forests. I now know that my ancestors were not the first to…