This... Is not my home!
This is where the sugar does not taste sweet.
This is the place where the words have No meaning and the people have No faces!
The city has No religion. It's bright light shine through the humble man's hopes and lighten only his futile dreams...
This is not my home!
This is not where i live.
This place sells life with death as it's buyer...It's hustle and buzz rings only to the ears of wandering man searching for home-broken woman.
This place has No stars!
It's tar drives the cars to It's destination.
It's freedom is barred by sky-scrapers that not even the tallest man can escape!
This place is not my home...
The people are slaves to the "tick" of every "tock"
They are slaves to the "Yes" of every "No".
This place can't be my home...
Oh, take me back...
to the place where my feet Touch the soil,
where the sun shines to Me and Not the smoke in the sky.
Take me back to the place where my food has taste and the proud stars can guide me,
the place where my roots can grow and My meaning has life, where my fruits of labour bore from and my charity began...
Take me back to the place where i cried my first tear and breathed my first breath...
© Naadir Vorajee