Foreign

I know very little about you.

And sadly, I do lack the interest.

You claim to be a city, and deserve more attention.

I know, but I being selfish,

Only trudge through the necessary roads

Of my everyday life.

And I am happy with that,

Even if that’s not true, I presume no other way

That you could make me happier.

I don’t know if I should feel obliged

That you have shown me the first snow

And have given me something

That I sometimes feel tempted to call life,

Far away from home.

You make me do things, that I never thought I would have to do.

And show me the true color of loneliness.

Loneliness. I thought it to be very charming and poetic.

Without you, I could never know how pathetic it could be.

And those excruciatingly sad wake-ups and vacant hours.

My entire existence has shrunk to this small room.

You have that great voyager’s name, that mocks at your mundane self.

Columbus, I wish I could learn to belong to you.