Lying deep within the cold concrete cities,

I sigh, I doze, I pray.

I dream of an enchanted forest filled with poets,

I paint, I read, I write.

The screaches of cars ignite the forest, fire spreads,

I work, I eat, I sleep.

The Calendar flips, time wrinkles weathered faces,

I blink, I step, I jump.

Return to the forest, it is rich and bright, it is eternal,

I am free