Five floors, a cherry tree, and my room on top.

I ran down the stairs.

I kissed the empty hall goodbye.

We drove off.

Only visible the rising mud of the ground under the screeching wheels,

And memories of my grandmother's face,

her clear tears.

 

The isles like a room of mirrors,

seat 90B like a prison bench.

I dreamt of my family and friends.

Millions of thoughts,

of upcomming adventures but lost warmth of home,

my grandmother waving,

running,

our trail of momeries.

 

Finnaly I ran out.

The humid, strange air hit my lungs like dynamite.

The green palm trees, abnormal tongues, and tanned faces

frightened my mom.

 

I ran down the stairs,

I ran through my thoughts,

I ran out the prison,

I ran in the rain last night.

 

And I smiled with sadness.

The run pleasant now, brought back memories of the run from my hearth.

My feet stomping for a half an hour now,

trample the tears from my grandmother's run.