Poem Final Draft

The world was my oyster
my dreams could be reached
the impossible was attainable, it seemed

that's how I saw the world
beautiful, blissful, mine.

It was though, it was not enough
The smell of the earth that crumbled in my hand
The oxygen that filled my lungs
The sunsets that drew portraits in my head

In essence, I was a stranger to this planet 

Just like my bestfriend

I wanted to paint my masterpiece with the stars
Be able to breathe on the moon
Touch the galaxies with my fingertips

So then I felt the handlebars in my grasp
peddled as fast as I could
and whispered to my basket
"Home."