Poem: Ungrateful

I like the peace of Berkeley.
The trees, sunset, air, and people.
I hate my room in San Francisco.
Loathe it.
But it's all I have, for now.
I need to start planning,
how the hell to get free...
no way soon...
I don't want to go there!
But that's my home.
My place,
that I pay for
and fought for,
for years.
Trapped.