The little town, the country town,
Full of dusty roads, and old homes
Decorated with cast iron trimmings
And flowers under the trees.
The friendly people, the community
Who recognise you as you walk down the street,
Who go to school with you,
Who ask about your family.
To walk down the street, to be greeted 'hello'
And feel deep down things that aren't said,
To see their look and realise they know,
To feel judged by everyone, everywhere you go.
Author notes
CONTEST:
http://xb7.xanga.com/a4ac753039532183448486/z140505744.jpg
the words, mostly
A contest entry
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Comments
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Aww. That's sad. But very true. Thanks for sharing. Sorry about the late comment. Thanks for waiting.
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