I walked abandoned
Lonely fields
Millennia of toil.
Wind-blown shell sand
Augmented with sweat,
Wrack and every kind
Of dung.

In that fevered hour
I knew the kindness
Of departed kin
Brown wrinkled skin
Stretched over young bones

No longer even that.
Voices of the wind.

Solidarity
Determined
By unwillingness to waste
A drop of life.
I felt them smile
They knew
I am coded
In the base of four.
Unbreakable.

Nomad Omnia

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nature-and-nurture/