twenty sixteen

this year, i traveled

this year, i left my home

not my house, not my town, i left my country

and when i returned, i felt sorry.

 

this year, i stayed indoors

this year, it was freezing

as the rain fell down, and the ice from the sky

for the first time in years, it was colder.

 

we don't normally get snow. 

we don't usually have mountains erupt

the lava, spills down, the ash, cascades from st helens,

we don't ever turn red.

 

but i guess it wasn't enough this time

12 evergreens standing tall

3 fall

doesn't matter at all.

 

next year, will i travel?

next year, will i be afraid?

when i leave, it'll be home, it'll be family

and when i return, i'd be sorry

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

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