Stranger Lands

A poem about growing up

Sounds of a silent step

Against the shower cabin

I walk in the strangest

Of triangular dimensions

 

I walk in the stranger lands

Home to the adults

Home to the children

Home to many, but myself

 

And whereever I may walk

In this land of staticism

Everyone seems certain

I’m in the past, and the present

 

So I decide to walk on

Maybe take a look around

Wander the streets

Of this genuine land

 

I see a woman washing

Her sheets that won’t go white

I see a child playing

In abscense of the light

 

I see a man, sitting in his chair

Reading a book

I see an elderly with trouble moving on

Her hips, the cause

 

As I am walking

I notice it’s time to go

One day will eventually come

The day I call this my home

Author's Note

Ignore grammar problems, English is not my native tongue