The thought of 6000 lonely miles;
Hours of interstate; roads worn and vile
Toll booths and highway exit signs.
Or a 4 hour,300 dollar plane ride
Makes me wonder if it’s worth the fight
What will our words decide tonight?
Maybe to let you go, let you free
To make a home in the busy city
You’d never feel pressure to think of me
With your full, day long itineraries;
At home you’ll be in Washington, DC
Will you even find time to think of me?
I could beg you to stay here, plant roots, remain
Stressing its important this bond doesn’t fray
You could find work in this worthless small town
Though in my heart, I know, you’d rather drown
So go on, get out, we’ll keep in touch
‘Cause heaven knows the last 2 years hasn’t meant that much
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem