You were born from a beautiful womb.
The smell of crisp boiled chicken
Excites your stomach and soul.
You were never given a chicken drumstick.
You must of felt the cold neglect.
Your mother left you to marry another man.
That man didn’t want you because of your clan label.
You were raised in a belittling environment.
As you drift through winters during the festivals.
The chance to wear your native clothes were taken away from you.
Torn clothes was the only thing you had.
Voicing yourself through kwv txhiaj.
Telling the life of a yellow orphan.
Resilience, kind, and loving.
Grandma, you are strong.
