In three countries before I was born
and then we moved to one of them
where Oma and Opa raised me
their house truly was my home
Age five we changed countries and language
no more Oma and Opa except twice a year
pined myself sick for my true home
no one understood that was clear
Then we moved to another town
home to me with dens and trees in the garden
the boy next door was sweet on me
he took my side always and secretly kissed me
And then all hell broke loose on me
ensuring I would never be the same
that took me to the strangest land
that has followed me all around the globe
Collecting countries is what I’ve done
and absorbed their cultures too
but the one I want so much to leave
is the land that follows me everywhere
Published in The Lark
