I am not my own,
For I had nothing to do with my existence,
I was merely a thought mercifully conceived in the creator’s mind.
I am not my own,
For I did not design nor decide what skin dark or bright to permanently wear,
I was clothed in black/brown earth following the potter’s careful image.
I am not my own,
I am nature’s because I swing on icy strings tied around its hands,
I am my land’s as my existence is the extension of its love,
Not my own, never my own.
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