Pecan

We are not defined
By the things
We are called

For there are words
With which
Those who carry
Pointed fingers
Can’t even agree
On the pronunciation

So why give any merit
To their twisted tongues?

Why concede
To what they prattle and presume?

So long as you know you
Who you are

Then what matters
Is not your name on their lips,

But the pride for that name
You hold in your heart