In the beginning

We are born without consent,
thrown into existence without warning,
no map, no instructions.

We rely on those who created us—
themselves guided by fading echoes,
a bloodline of trial and error,
passing down survival like
testing food for poison.

Generations upon generations,
none of us truly knowing,
yet all of us pretending
we were meant to.**
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace