나무

It is what will be called my home from then on…

With left nothing to take an effort for,
I’m now fine being long gone.
Work is hard but the house is even more,
these days it eats me instead of a hug.
I have no other place either…

I don’t mind,
being hit by a car,
falling high from a building,
or, biding my last bye to a serial killer
as long as I am gone & dusted.

Just,
bury me under a tree.
It is what will be called my home.