Every Road Leads Home

by Nicole Blue 

 

This bridge is shaky, shaky like our nation’s stability

On the end of this one a burping country hillbilly

The “American Gothic” pitchfork is the warm greeting

Rest assured you will be greeted by a few beatings

 

A dictator reign is my type of sovereignty

My transportation is a subway of poverty

I’m leaning against big elevator doors

They have fallen out and now they’re no more

 

A rancid meal is waiting for me to be fed

My awaited home-cooked meal is full of dread

The frostbite greeting of what it is to be poor

When you think it can’t be worse, there’s more in store

 

Every obstacle on the way has fallen

Anthrax is my only form of pollen

My lungs are starting to get a little lazy

Being deprived of oxygen makes me crazy

 

There are no eyes in this hurricane

Just me ending up completely insane

Every step is agony and tumultuous

 

Why is this the yellow brick road home for us?