Different is this land, from
the one I was raised in, there
the noise of all kinds distracts the soul, here
the silence, so readily attained, is avoided through sound, there
my eyes set upon the worst of man, here
I see the division of man, there
the love for one another seeps through the awful, here
one must remind people of love, easily
do people judge and hate others here, there
they judge and hate those who reflect their own image, here
the abundance is a problem to the soul, there
the lack of leaves the spirit withered, both
are imperfect, neither
is better than the other, I
am the product of two lands, with
the sins of each, as well as the grace, neither
here nor there, in no man’s land, attempting to understand the self, by
which I’ll understand others.
Learned Living 