Although I Am Only a Native Here
A trumpet has two horses: I-can’t-go-on & I-must-go-on, Or I knew nothing About his pain and the pain it caused. Or I was weak, I was bold, I was born here but I went away Like a foreigner among intellectuals. Or I was dead, But standing feet from the grave, I felt sorry and happy. What’s inevitable and what we can still change. A whinny, a neigh. Or the heart’s dull thump Thumping on its way.