Today I find myself thinking
About a certain day,
The day I go away,
And free to walk my way.
Now this has been my great desire
For many years prior;
It seemed a matter dire,
Now, here, my days expire.
It seems in every crevice,
There is a memory precious.
And only now I admire,
As now my days expire.
Here sitting and wondering,
Very close to slumbering,
How could I have so much loathing,
For the place where I was growing?