Shallow lands

What have I built?

When stones borrowed

And cement stolen. 

When land inherited 

And never bought. 

When plans mimicked 

And tools gifted. 

What have I built that is my own?

What cruel joke

 to give man free will 

and nothing of their own. 

Whither

She took pride in her bones. 

I asked if she liked her white hair. 

She told me with a soft breath.

Her father had it.

Her mother had it. 

She said some day I would have it. 

White hair means there is hope

With her it's apparent. 

Wither away with dignity

I take pride in my bones.