
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?