I dream of a place,<\/p>\n
Where I can travel the world,<\/p>\n
Sit in all four corners of the globe,<\/p>\n
And whizz over all seven continents.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I get up from a cardboard bed,<\/p>\n
In a cardboard room,<\/p>\n
In a cardboard house,<\/p>\n
I walk over to a cardboard cupboard,<\/p>\n
And stare hopefully at its forever emptiness,<\/p>\n
The hope died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I walk into a patchwork field,<\/p>\n
And sigh at the unreality,<\/p>\n
No green just red,<\/p>\n
The reality died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I trek over plastic bottles,<\/p>\n
Plastic bags,<\/p>\n
And plastic sheets,<\/p>\n
None of it means anything anymore,<\/p>\n
The meaning died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My foot scuffs,<\/p>\n
On a copper coin,<\/p>\n
I stare at it,<\/p>\n
I can\u2019t get excited,<\/p>\n
My excitement died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I snaffle half a hamburger,<\/p>\n
From a newly dumped load,<\/p>\n
The words on the box blur,<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t care anymore,<\/p>\n
The care died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In amongst the mush,<\/p>\n
Rusty metal cuts against my foot,<\/p>\n
Be infected by morning,<\/p>\n
I pocket it thoughtlessly,<\/p>\n
The thought died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I sold my pocketful of treasures,<\/p>\n
Clamping the money in my fist,<\/p>\n
I didn\u2019t argue at the unfair price,<\/p>\n
That would mean spirit,<\/p>\n
The spirit died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I went back to my cardboard house,<\/p>\n
In my cardboard room,<\/p>\n
In my cardboard bed,<\/p>\n
And take in the unhomeliness,<\/p>\n
My real home died years ago.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I dream of a place,<\/p>\n
Where I can travel the world,<\/p>\n
Sit in all four corners of the globe,<\/p>\n
And whizz over all seven continents.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
By Lyra<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I dream of a place, Where I can travel the world, Sit in all four corners of the globe, And whizz over all seven continents. I get up from a cardboard bed, In a cardboard room, In a cardboard house, I walk over to a cardboard cupboard, And stare hopefully at its forever emptiness, … Continue reading “Cardboard House”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.minchacademy.net\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}