Travel
Morning time in
my old
South border
I am leaving for
My mom
She lives up north in
America
I didn't choose this,
I had to go
This is a yearly a mission
I didn't like it
But I have to,
I worry
I worry about my dad and love,
they seem alone
I wish they could join me but
They can't
I look around
Everything is like a still
Painting
But my mind is moving fast
I know as I speak,
I will leave the sand and cacti
And join the cotton and trees
But, I must be strong
For I will return to Mexico
