You had to load,
alone, with your pouch…
with your pain, and your doubts…

Walking on trails,
of uncertainty,
of a very raw reality…

You grew warrior,
nestled among books,
of lies and cultures…

You saved your soul,
of invented fires,
but threatened,
and then, they call you lucky!

They are the heirs,
of stolen childhoods,
who give answers,
to so many misunderstood…