American Nomad.

From A to B we take flight,
daring ourselves to live life.
Pencils down, the test is through.
The basics of comfort are lost to you.

Home is a box between the streets,
a narrow place where the buildings meet.
Test was failed, the trap's been set.
Money and power far above your head.

Work/ every/ single/
day of your life,
just to find
a scrap here and there,
a meager shelter to share.
Work/ every/ single/
day of your life,
just to find
another cross to bear,
a little comfort;
two hands making a pair.

When winter comes,
a fire is all you can ask for.
When summer shines
its burning sun upon you:
all you can ask for
is a bottle of water,
or rain to cool the skin,
until autumn blows
its sallow, germ-ridden wind.

And pray for spring!
Where frost starts to melt,
the flowers are a shelf
for hope to lay its weight down!
Where bees start to buzz!
Where trees start to bud!
Where life can be loved!

Hold on tight,
don't be weighed down by the winter snow's weight,
don't be blown over by the winds of autumn,
don't be burned up by the suns of summer.
Hold fast until spring
and the renewal it brings.