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Stabbed and betrayed by my kinsmen
Who sold me for mirrors, socks, shoes
And gun powders.
I engraved throne; oh my sweet home,
In the innermost part of my crest
With inks of gold.
I built their poles, streets and cities..
Till Foriegn lands overtime became
Pains I suffered, I sweat it out,
Till it turned rains, I rose from dust
Patriotism, I visited home,
To rebuild my native land
Better than theirs…
But I was tossed not for old rocks
But unfitness to remember
My sweet culture.
The more I try to blend and fit
More I cry, and fall on my feet
Pack bags and leave.
Race on my face; where am I from
I try so hard, yet rejected
Too many times
Now my homeland is not my town
Neither the place I can be found;
….Lost Kings and Queens.