I tried to sound like everyone else

But my accent, like sand trickles through the narrow neck of the hourglass

Kept seeping through the tiny pockets in my speech

We were vines wound round each other

And the swords of fear and shame were starting to tear us apart

But golden reminiscence

With a speed parallel to none other

Rushed into my thoughts and reminded me

Where I have come from and who I am

And from then I have known no greater confidence

So from that moment I have spoken

With pride immeasurable

That even though my timbre is not the norm

It is a sign of my lineage and bravery

And of the cultural ties that bind my motherland and my soul.