I greeted the morning through a broken window
And sat on tufts of itchy grass to watch the sun arise
Watching as the clouds drift, and trees dance in the breeze.
I left my home that day, beneath a pale golden sky
Trekking down from hills of green, past solemn elms
Somber, and silent; grandparents begrudging my departure.
I sat alone, hefty leather bags dangling from the seat
Staring as the world flashed by, blurring and swift
Sending landscapes flying by like vibrant, mountainous winds.
I dreamed, in the rumbling iron cell, of a home now far away
Longed for a family long gone, and for autumn days, with sunset painted
Skies and fallen leaves resting gently on our doorsteps.
I woke up, never sleeping, and feigned responsiveness
Leaving the sight of a few concerned eyes, shambling away
Retreating with a steady gait, swaying bags, hiding the tears.
I stood in the streets of the city once
Waiting in silence, staring down a road with not a soul in sight
I sat down, beneathe a swathe of towering windows, dirty curtains drawn.
I waited in this city again that day.
Sitting in an empty street, thinking of a better yesterday.
And watched the sun vanish in a burst of flames.
I walked down crowded sidewalks, alone for all those around
I stumbled, burdened with my sentiments, guided in darkness by only streetlights.
When I knocked on my new home's door, I knew I could always keep my dreams.
Dismissing Calls for Civility as Privilege
11 hours ago