Born of dust and gold
Growing up is so uncomfortable
Tried to whiten out the yolk
All these questions were a handful
Couldn’t face up to my folks
Mama’s hands were her utensils
Said that I was from New York
But my voice sounded unnatural
Cherry blossom oak
Is it hard to find a place to grow?
Pink makes you seem bold
Yet outside the bark sheds off your coat
It’s a myth that life’s graceful
For an egg whose shell cracks up a hole
It ain’t the place for either / or
Try to hyphenate and bridge these worlds
