I sit and stare out to sea,
It’s where I long to be.
Away from here, away from England.
I want to leave it all behind,
For everything to become memories in the mind.
I want to cut my own path.
“When I grow up, I’d hate to live in the West.”
Aidan looks at me like I jest.
He thinks I’m mad and asks if I’m drunk.
The West isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I hate it; we are the cause of so much poverty.
I long to change it, to reverse some of the hurt.
Maybe one day I’ll get the chance,
Someone else’s life I could enhance.
That’s all in the future though.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem