When my people find me
I will continue to use the same words
Even if they remain unfathomed.
I will continue to make art
Even if it remains unappreciated.
I will ink a thousand papers
Even if they are left to dust
In a dark corner of an abandoned library.
I will continue to be who I am.
I will be honest
In what I do, I want, and I create.
I will finally be understood,
Among those who speak my language.
When my tribe will come looking for me,
When my people find me.
I will remain,
A fish out of water.
A porcupine in a nudist colony.