​SHKM's spoken word performance of "White Sun", a story of the Chinese Diaspora.

An open door, a long-past war;
a history told in riddles
stars on red faced blue and white
and I stand nowhere in the middle.

A power cold, a people sold;
on sand, salt and bitter tears,
ten million words seed barren soil
washed away by gutted years

A dead white sun, a desperate run, 
the gloom of silence greater
than red, red blood and rotting stench
masked by clean white paper 

They ask me now, through smile bared teeth, how really I do feel
Our culture gone, the dream no more, still unable to kneel

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