Heaven

Some days I crave a sun so bright

Instead of Memphis rain

And people that can say my real name

Some days I feel my skin turning back

A darker shade close to black

And I hear my roots calling me home

But most days I know I am not alone

In feeling so far away from home

We’re all immigrants after all

Waiting for the call

To return to heaven

Published by

strangerpaths

Poet, making sense of war, humanity, love and greed. Trying to find the magic in ordinary things. I am Zee

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