As a child, the family was his tribe.
His older cousin showed him and his brother how to fish.
He was shown the colors of the earth,
and it helped him through the noise and clamor
of his half-sisters and the city.
He and his brother and mother and sister were a tribe.
He was taught to cook,
and introduced to the music that inspired his brother,
and it helped deal with the bright colors and materialistic shallowness of the American dream.
He and his friends were a tribe,
Not the ones in person, but the on-line ones
who knew only his soul,
The soul that would be connected to his love,
and it helped him deal with the absurdity
of those who had trouble moving on in the face-to-face world.
Now, he needs his tribe again,
In order to be safe from those who see savagery,
In the most noble of existences he’s known.

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