I Like My Home Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

I Like My Home



Balcony protrudes over the garden
Fenced off
House through the trees
Quiet
A place to write
Light green walls reflecting the sun
Lamps with ghosts
Paintings

It's a horrible thing to be a refugee

I just can't deal with the world
I know longer trust any nations
Detest politicians
But I like my home

Monday, May 2, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: bicycles
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Joseph Narusiewicz

Joseph Narusiewicz

So St Paul, Minnesota
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