City

written mid december 2006

There is no wholesome plant here
There is no learning
No passion.
Being with the dead kills me.

There aren't enough trees
Not enough shade
Dry dust and plastic.

My tears are not water enough
to give life to this
Nor my anger or frustration.

The only thing thats constant
is the blue sky above. So

I wish to be a bird that finds freedom in the blocks
I wish to be the clouds again
I wish to be the trees, my friends and the ever moving breeze.

I see machines everywhere
They never walk alone
But they are.

There is no freedom or intelligence.

I need water and sunshine,
I need leaves, insects, streams, lakes,
I need Home.