As our
engine starts to groove,
My spirit
starts to go high
Anticipating
to move,
Far from the
city that’s sly
As we pass
through pure concrete
Through
belligerent traffic
More we move
noise a forfeit
A sign for
being homesick
After hours
of sitting
I gaze upon
the window
I see the
blue sea shining
Past
glitt’ring green that’s shallow
The fragrant
smell of burnt wood
The misty
blows from meadows
Children
running with bare foot
Infectious
smiles from fellows
Life in this
precious outskirt
So abundant
yet simple
Leaving this
place always hurt
For nature’s
best to nestle

No comments:
Post a Comment