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Not home yet
Staring into the windswept clouds of my surroundings, my feet pounding to the rhythm of my heart beat
Cars flashing down these empty streets shaking the ground beneath my feet
White houses with picket fences. a lawn created from big expenses
Birds chirping a song not pretty but long, not sweet but with purpose, too understand you have too earn this
the earth seems to mirror my moves the sun keeps me warm and the cool air soothes
Train tracks push into the center of my foot as I walk over them, leaving a path covered in soot.
large apartments numbered A to Y, families inside arguing about who caused it and why
fast girls and broads admiring my way, and sneering at me the next day
the sounds of bullets cracking the background, the next minute not a sound
I slow down my steps, and my shoes slide against the ground like a broom, im tired but will be home soon.
