AT HOME
It is a long time; I left home.
It was dark and there were no streetlights.
I thought to live better life far away from my home
And failed to come back.
My home was valueless to me
It looked like a village yesterday,
It is a simple town today,
And it will be like a paradise in the future.
The bees bit my brothers and sisters when they were looking for the queen bees.
They worked hard to develop farming.
Yesterday it was traditional farming,
Today I can hear about modern farming,
Harvest honey from the backyard beehives
Without stressing the bees,
The drinkers start drinking real lemon juice
And proper honey in warm water.
At home,
Life is hard everywhere;
Living with the bees,
It is so hard.
Life is like the game,
Life is hard work, strength is life,
But the weakness is death.
It is better to die in the field – battle.
A man who does not remember his motherland,
He is a slave.
I feel shame to go back home;
I feel that everyone is talking
About me behind my back
And no one like me.
Many people heard about the development of
My mother country, and they wished them well.
They are ready to crown the first winner.
Many people compare me to a lazy man
Who abandoned his native soil.
Friends learn how to find
The hidden treasure
In your hometown.
Copyright © Alfonso II Warally Chris | Year Posted 2017https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/at_home_904791
