Take it all away

Take away my birthplace, it just had to be and was.

Take away my parents, just thank them for being there.

Take away my tears and temper, I was small then.

But don’t take away my laughing and smiles.

Take away my nation, it was an island after all.

Take away my passport, it never belonged to me.

Take away the churches and temples, they smelt too old.

But don’t take away my wishing, or my joy.

Take away my schooling, the authority and power.

Take away my country and flag, the guns and the bombs.

Take away my race, my gender, my beliefs and lies.

But don’t take away learning, or the quickening of my heart.

Take away my culture, my reading, my books.

Take away my pride, my pretending to know.

Take away my thinking, my thought, me and mine.

Take away my very concept of I.

But don’t take away my crackling, vibrating pulse,

My expanding ice sheet of power,

Or my question “who" and "why”.