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Nov 2015
Oh the heat in this bland desert
Does it ever stop?
The glaring sun heating up the sky
Waiting till you drop

I come from a cold place
Where it always rains
You can taste the moist cool air
See the blueness in my veins?

I was not made for the heat
I was made for the cold
So if you put me in the sun
Forgive me if Iā€™m bold

I hate it here, is that clear
I want to go home
Where the water runs, always fun
Laughing as it goes
Written by
Mike Hack  Alaska
(Alaska)   
481
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