my world

back to my world,
a forest overgrown,
with mud and tin houses,
holes all round,
airation!
a land filled with rivers,
black sewerage effluents,
that flow,
past my weather beaten,
iron sheet one room shed,
a smell,
i wake up to,
used to,
and not even the parachuting toilets,
in dark dyed polythenes,
that safely land at my doorstep,
and the unlucky,
that die on the window sills,
can drive me away,
from this my world,
an eruption of a city,
rocked with tides and waves,
where there lays no friend or foe,
unconcered,
uncaring,
monks of their own temples,
where the sun is never welcome,
and the cold a no no,
a world of masked men,
uniform edited women,
trying to make their way,
acceptable by many,
yet despite the darkness,
of this world,
a warmth creeps to all that live,
and embrace before the next meal,
a world of minute minds,
my world is!