The grass isnt greener on the otherside if your in arizona.
You have to look at the pebbles,
And hope  that in this dessert forrest,
A piece of your old home is burried under a cactus.
The rocks getnhot,
So hot your face burns when you kick the soil.
Whats good for anything worth knowing
That the cats made a home.  On your bed
Hangs a shirt, a lite blue shirt.
It gets briter and briter every time you leave it by the window.
When the door opens you know there is consistenzy down here.
But I miss reading books by a fire.
The fire I xould burn my worst poems in.