I  grew up in a third world country 
Dusty roads made up the AC in our house 
We knew not of snow or winter 
The morning mist told stories of lands miles away 
Where children camped around fireplaces to avoid catching a cold, took cappuccino, went ice skating 
All sorts of things I only saw in night mares

I grew up in a third world country 
Where right is right and wrong is right as long as its Mr Right saying it 
Our nights and days were filled with weeping as children implored mothers to create food out of thin air 
Our feet ached with longing to walk the day of the white man 
We tried to mimic the queen thinking in her ways was a savior 
Now we are “Twins ” with her -fanta face, Pepsi legs, anything to save us from this African curse

I grew up…