My hometown is at peace
with the quiet whistle of the trees
I sit here, thinking
Wow, what a wonderful place to be daydreaming
As if I got a blast from the past
I sit at home, playing with my cast
My eyes started to water
As I think of my mother
We left her at home,
a place she calls her own.
But I do not fret
as I think there is no threat
I remember seeing stars
I remember all the hours
I remember being sad
but I remember being happy
I go back home
A place I call my own
As I walk I start to daydream
Wow, what a wonderful place to be living
YOU ARE READING
Daydream
Poetryit's a poem I made in school with a friend. the cover isn't mine btw, I just found it on the internet.
