I wish I could say
That poetry comes easily to me

But I don’t live in a place where poetry is born
Where there is a small café
Down the street
And all you think about
Is how to make ends meet

No I don’t live in a beautiful town
With chattering people all around
I live in a place of soccer and school
Of long-lost dreams and neighborhood pools

I live in a place that many dream of
Where one’s only worry
Is if their house is clean enough

But I want to live
not play soccer and go to school
I don’t want to worry about how I’ll be cool
I only want to leave
And never return
To this city where my dreams
Have crashed and burned

I want to live in a place where poetry is born
Where people dance on the streets
Not for fun, but to feed their children
And with a man on the road who stands on his feet
With a cardboard sign
saying he has nothing to eat

I want to live in a place where I can help
I guess I just want to live in the real world
Not a protected neighborhood
With security and safety
But rather a place where life is tasty

And the next day is never the same
As the one that just passed
And you’re caught wishing these days would last

m.c.c.