Lost I was in a green canyon, in infant who was found in the dead arms of his mother, she who just wanted to bring me to America; didnt even make it out our birth home, not even out of state. Most forget what is sacrificed in an exodus, how close one is always to death, when leaving home can be the last thing you do. Three did not make it to America but I did, a jorney where blood, sweat, and tears have been shed; a life full of laughter and pain, that has made me who I am today. A clown in tears who at times speaks eloquently, who many times has caused joy and sarrow. A poison that has made many feel great and terrible, that is what I have alws been, a poison, that will change your perceptions and dreams.