C o m i n g B a c k H o m e

17 7 10
                                    

"One day, I'll come back home. I'm an outsider here, not like the people around me. I don't belong here, but in Poland."


I'm flying among the clouds

Watching nothingness from 

Outside my window, hearing 

The engines roar, in my stomach


Feeling the plane soar. I'm coming 

Back home, I'm almost there, among 

My people, in a huge city called Warsaw,

Trying to find my way to my town, this journey 


Is taking a while, the wheels on the train go on 

And on, the buildings, trees, people, stations

They all blur behind me as the train moves, the

Moment I'll get off this smelly, old train, will make


My lungs expand, I'll breathe again, smelling dust and 

Bus waste coming from the back engine, consuming me 

Yes I'm definitely back home. 



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