Poem #7
OZ
My Emerald City
Is filled with
Memories of the past
Glimpses of the future
The yellow brick road
Foot print after foot step
Leading me into ambiguity
Leading me into purpose
Ruby slippers blind us
From our true ambitions
Our tin bodies rust
From the reign of false hope
Propaganda breaks hearts
This fear we feel is like a frost
That clings to our windows at night
Making us see only foggy shapes
Muted colors
You are my Emerald City
My safety, my shelter
Storm will brew
Tornadoes touch down
Houses may fall
Witches show their haggard faces
But coming back
To my Emerald City
Reminds me
There is no place like home.
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