Posted by: Ron DuBour | May 28, 2016

Life of an Indian reservation~by Payal



Life of an Indian reservation

I came unapologetically
from a tea stained civil
disobedience, wearing
every trope of famously
preached orthodox upbringing.

Hid in licorice bushes blooming
steadfastly conservative,
I pulled up flossed liberal seeds
taking roots on silver birches,
my strong and bare arms
personified optimum conditions
as gothic structures feeling
umbrages while night had fallen.

Many a burden,
either loved or hated too honestly,
late flowered platonic voices not
worth of my attention,
I could not remember the news
but only sound bites,
taking time for personal tragedies
sitting forthright on the premium
fences protecting changed rules for
our new generations.

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