As a plant

Cactus.
The Sahara is a friend to the ones he can kill,
And I have survived his unceasing rain of drought.
It is not pride;
But no living thing can last my grandfather’s age
Without water to quench at least a grain of thirst.
These spikes are a shiel; for defence and attack,
If the desert doesn’t kill you I gladly will–
My milk is not to be shared.
I and my kinsmen have fenced a thousand generations,
And a thousand more we shall guard.
When next a human complains about life being hard,
Drag him by his legs with his back tearing the earth
And bring him to the Sahara or Somalia,
Or any other place that the gods have forsaken
Then point your hands at me and tell him
“Rain falls once in a thousand days here
And he has never contemplated suicide.”

Younglan Louis