Success

Cut from the earth with earnest hands,

My home was built on the backs of others.

The land, taken from its first inhabitants,

Deemed too productive to lay idly by,

Constructed many a lesson:

Western work was valued,

While others were deemed inferior.

They named the town “Success”

Except they were only successful

In destroying generations.

I do not blame my father,

Or my father’s father,

But I feel responsible

To reconcile

With those

We hurt.