What’s in a name?
Another hand-me-down bestowedAlready tattered and tornThis title to which I was bornAlready stained with the sameIndelible shadow of shameAs the smoke-blackened roomThat swallowed meOut of the womb
This cast-off of cast-outsA caste apartEnshrouded in doubtThis first ‘gift’ grantedFirst marker, moniker, brandLast link to a lost landFirst claim, first link in the chainFirst tie to a life pre-ordained
What’s in a nameThat should hallmark meAnchored to a counter-weighted historyWhat if . . . I could file it awayClaw, scratch and scrapeUnknot this monogrammed capeCast it back into the streetWould I be at once released
Uncuffed, unbranded, reprievedUnchristened, unborn preconceived?