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This is the city I love.
The place I yearn for --even when I’m home with folks
This is the city I cried for, when 3 years back I left for good
This is the city I came back to—to restart my life, looking for a new home...
But could I ever possibly call it home?
When every time I walk on the streets
They remind me that I’m different
That I’m a misfit
That I’m an outsider
How would I call it home when I’m paranoid to walk on the streets?
Because I’m going to receive those lecherous stares
Be whistled at by teenagers
Be mobbed by bikers
Because I’m going to be offered a free ride
Because when I walk, there’ll be those ‘sick in the head’
But how long will this go on?
When will they ever accept me?
When will they ever let me be?
When can I call finally call it “my home”?