Moving wheels
My life evolves and rotates, growing up
Around round and in a moving wheel
My house is a moving wheel
Designated to form part of the drain
So it becomes mine for so long
Until such time,
Unknown and wish not to, so soon
Too soon, so soon, not so soon
When the big tractors come
And the men with safety helmets proceed
With bureaucratic halted projects, brown envelopes
My life is in a moving wheel, my house is
And it is my pride of place, joy to have
To call home, some where home
Estates of communities, us as together safe
My neighbor has no gated wall, no windows or doors
We live in an open air community
And my hope and pray and sincere wish
Everyday I wake to dress for school
Is that my house of moving wheels, my life
Would still be there with mother
Oh mother, when I get back, oh mother
My home is in a drain pipe, my joy to have
Food for thought...
ReplyDeleteSome realities...and it truly speaks one can be happy as what is happiness for them to be... nice!
ReplyDeleteOh the brutality of this simple plea. All the more so by the stark truth that this is reality for far too many.
ReplyDeleteSuch a sad state of affairs, when people are reduced to such measures for the most basic needs of life.
ReplyDeleteReality is always harder than it seems to be..Nice read !
ReplyDeleteGreat work.
ReplyDeleteHome means the same in all languages.