I can smell the smells of my home.
Infecting my mind like an ant farm.
Wanting needing nothing more than home.
The embrace of my family.
Loyal dog loyal wife.
How far they seem from this place.
Hidden in a hillside farm.
I learn the ways of my new profession.
This poet failed writer now to up hold the law.
Still writing words on empty papers.
Worthless words no true meaning.
Worthless lives no true meaning.
Simple mind kept at bay this way.
Home is a farm in the country.
Away from the city hidden in the woods.
I fear that one day the city will overrun it.
Border patrol takes on a new meaning.
Another lunch break another poem.
When the sun sets tonight one more day.
Then its back to my home.
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