My Backbone

When I was born did you not embrace me as your seed?
Were you not the one who taught me how to write and read?
To be strong and always follow my creed.
Were you not the one who told me to never follow and always lead?
When I was weak did you not fight for me and bleed?
When I was leaving you did you not get down on your knees and plead?
With tear stained eyes did you not softly whisper God speed?
And wasn’t the plan for me to return to you when I succeed?
So why is it that you’re the one I choose to mislead?
Acted like the injured party and choose to backbite?
Had nothing good to say about you, just spite.
Pretended like you were never a part of me.
Played the part of the citizen and not the refugee.
Than I wondered how many other thought like me.
Prayed not many for you would cease to be.
That was my wake up call and finally I saw the light.
I no longer ignored your hollow cries at night.
Though time and space I reach for you with all my might.
I cannot deny you for that would be like saying I am not black I am white.
How can I forget you?
You are my birthright.
Somalia this poem for you I write.
You have watched me grow from a seed to a flower.
It’s only fair I return to plant your seed and help you re-power.
You filled my mind with rich history and knowledge.
It’s only fair I return to continue your history and you to acknowledge.
You’ve invested in me when I was just a simple nomad.
Turned by back on you and you did not even get mad.
Now I have discovered new territories and realize there is no place like home.
Without you am lost and headed for dome.
For only you can truly take care of one of your own.
And that is the reason why Somali I consider you my backbone.

"Twisted Elegance"

Copyright © 2009 by Hayat Magan. All Rights Reserved