I came to you two years ago

And I'm afraid I haven't enjoyed it.

I hate your humidity;

I never feel clean.

I loathe the mosquitos

That feast on my skin.

I abhor your spiders

That crawl overhead,

And your hot hot sun

That never goes to bed.


But I must confess,

It's not all bad.

I love your comfortable, warm nights;

The constellations always shine.

I adore the sunrises and sunsets,

The way you dye the sky:

Purple, pink, orange, red, blue.

I live for your storms.

The tornadoes, the showers,

Thunder, Lightning,

The awesome, exhilarating power they carry.

These are what I will miss about you

When I finally leave

To do what I was meant to do.