The problems we have faced, all we have is desperation
How may I fit my family into the equation?
How will we deal with there constant begs?
How much land will be allotted,
and to whom? What can't I afford?
How may we state the look
of elsewhere? How can I make myself less
abstracted? In the house but not of it.
Grace of a front lawn, stucco sophisticate.
All that glitters stuck in the surface.
Sheet shocks sense into reflection.
Wood sliced into beam better becomes
the forest. This city and its heights, bright lights,
the forest nowhere near environmentalist are afraid it has
disappeared and that would be there greatest fear
I'm almost depressed I'm leaving, the outlands of the city
is where my head will rest