The trouble with leaving home

I have not known this place until now
how the Earth seems to settle at dusk
and my silence is a disguise for a circus of thoughts
and intense contemplation. Seeking answers
as to what may live beyond the boundaries of comfort
guilt from frivolously accepting this as a condition of life
where my years have passed without tragedy
the days have been often alone, but not lonely
the middle of life, pensive without sadness
blooming without seasons. They say
my home is the country of empty promises
where everything is for sale, including our hearts.
Maybe it is true, maybe flight predicts the safest landing
but today I would sell my soul for contradictions
and a bit more time lost in the American dream.

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