Grass

Grass

“The grass seems greener here,”

I tell myself but in vain.

My eyes close to the dandelion

Weeds in my backyard

And look to concrete,

Bus stops,

And a city with a longer curfew

Than 9pm.

One that won’t sleep until I’m

Ready for bed.

One that has a fridge for

My food, no worries if

My things will be there after

Work.

I tell myself that I’m right,

“The grass is greener here.”

Because where I want to go,

There is more than just grass.