This bastard child
Born of bloody hand and war.
This Imerica where all souls
Black, white, pink and yellow
Ferment quietly in a great vat
Filled with whatever can be found

This is my land
Temporarily... sort of well
You can bury me here
Or compost me or whatever

Here I live and breath
In a quiet way
I do not make a fuss
I consume and I love
Red and white and blue
And lots of other colors
Went into my making
And my children
Are pearls
And my partner
The living soul of a man's desire

We attach too much attention
To the framework of it all
And not to the second by second
Beauty of a life well lived.
I am fed, have shelter
From the storm
clothes to my back
everything else is bonus
All joy, my friend
Aljoy
Just Breathing
just breathing