Alaska

ADAM R. YOUNG

I was on the road,
Despite the holiday.
A winter green daydream,softly collided.
And took all my headaches away.

When did I arrive?
I don't recall ever leaving Alaska.
Why do I hate the dark, when I'm alone?

I was on my way,
To a brighter day,
I'm still chasing around.
But somehow I still believe that this is home.
It's so good to be home.

I was on the ground.
When I recall the day,
That my discomposure left me forever.
And swept all my troubles away.

When did I arrive?
I don't recall ever leaving Alaska.
Why do I hate the dark, when I'm alone?

I was on my way,
To a brighter day,
I'm still chasing around.
But somehow I still believe that this is home.
It's so good to be home.

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