in the city of my birth
after a long hiatus
for a sublime fortnight
amongst old friends
and estranged loves
but it isn’t the same
the people are mirthful
and the alleys still reek
of clandestine meet ups
but there is something
that’s miffed with me
angry at my long absence
the child of the city
is now an orphan
unwelcome and unwanted
undesirable to the eyes
that don’t always appreciate
my disdain or even my candour
it is true what they say
about leaving and never coming back
there is some dignity in
unfeeling departure
for you are unrecognizable
when you come back
you carry the scent of a new place
and its people
and the city, your city
forgets you, on purpose even
this tragic affair
merits very little consternation
in the histories of
thousands who have lived
and died here
away and apart from the
cities of their births.
