It's raining and the leaves are falling. What few trees I can see from this place where I live are losing their leaves today. I want to go home to my farm. I want to be where I can stand in the rain and feel the leaves whip around me. I want to go home - my home that was taken from me. I don't belong here in the city. I don't belong in a beehive of concrete and metal with the stink of car fumes and chemical plants making me not be able to breathe.

I don't belong where people try to break into my car and hurt me and I can't defend myself. I don't belong where people hurt each other instead of watch over each other.

I need the clean air, the earth and the trees and their leaves. I need to be where I can hear the snowflakes when they fall. I need to hear the pines whisper to me when the breeze blows. I need to go home, but my home was is gone. I belong no where now and I am so lonely I feel I will break beneath the very weight of the pain.