Ode to Home
The sound of Jetplanes fills the air
Dreams of beaches in my head
A thousand trees rush from afar (You´re stuck here)
It´s green, it´s bright, it´s nice to see
It´s wonderfully boring
Dust rises, as I walk along the streets
Dust rises, as I walk along the fields
My worn out shoes take me along
I´ve seen this place a million times
And wished myself away
A feeling rises
My conscience speaks (Get out!)
This place is old, it´s dead, it´s tired
It´s sickeningly boring
Dust rises, as I walk along the streets
Dust rises, as I walk along the fields
I´m home.
{This has already been published in my Weblog. It was supposed to be a song but now it´s a poem dedicated to my home, a little village at the edge of the world}
