Some myths about my island, Trinidad..


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When people hear I live on an isle,
They ask me things that make me smile.
Like, “Do you gals still wear grass skirts,
And do you live in houses made of dirt?”

I tell them that I’m sitting here in my cave
Trying desperately myself, to behave.
I say I am wearing my skirt of grass
With my computer plugged into my a**!!

They seem to think that we are so primitive,
They wonder if our men are still very aggressive.
I tell them our men still hunt for the grub,
And then come home and beat us with their club.

It’s funny the things that some people believe,
And the way, certain things, they perceive.
Some seem to think we feed on one another,
I say, of course, I just ate my little brother!

Some even have the gall to think
That, to write, I still use a feather and ink.
They seem to forget I’m using a pc
Even as I sit here drinking my bush tea.

I tell them the only way they’d understand,
Is for them to visit my little island.
And living here is like being in paradise,
They simple have to see it thru natives’ eyes.