Thread: Homesick

the blackened streets smelled of flesh and blood.
the sludge caked on as thick as mud.
the squishy sound beneath my boots.
makes me miss my down home roots.
there the sun is always shining bright and new.
the air is clean without mildew.
But here the people gawk and stare.
sometimes they pretend i'm not even there.
where I'm from people are not the same.
to them life is more than a losing game.
Here they are souless and alone.
I wonder if this is their home.
Or are they just like me,
only pretending that they are free.
In this city of buildings high,
where it is an eye for an eye.
I wish I were back in my country town.
where people smile and never frown.
But they are just people too,
and when I get there I'll miss this place too.
The grass may be greener there,
but at least it's home, where things are fair.

This is a good poem. I can feel the disappointment, gloom and despair that seem to drip throughout the poem. I would only say that perhaps you could play around with it a little, especially towards the end; this is the section I was thinking about….
“But they are just people too,
and when I get there I'll miss this place too.
The grass may be greener there,
but at least it's home, where things are fair.”

I almost feel that you could cut this part out altogether, as the rest of the poem seems to hold up okay without it.....?
Or maybe just change it a little as it seems a bit cliché >>" the grass may be greener there, and the use of the word "too" ?