They tell me how they hate you,
How they can’t stand your dull grey skies,
And I nod my head in agreement,
But at my head’s betrayal, my heart cries.
How could I ever hate you?
How could I hate the place I found my family,
Not in blood but by choice,
The place with memories, happy, sad, and silly.
They say there isn’t much to see,
But I have never seen more vibrant rainbows,
Than in your sunset hued skies,
Or a more mystical thing than your Willow’s boughs.
I know they will suffer soon,
When they leave you, they too shall ache,
For whom they were with you,
Maybe they’ll ridicule you, but it will all be fake.
And if they never knew you,
That would be a punishment hard enough,
For me to take pity on them,
And not wish them ahead a life, long and tough.