Somewhere out there
There’s a world for me
A place to go
A lonely street
With small tiny homes
And a place to be
To call my own
I could be free
Where I can see
Me being me
With the wind in my hair
Blowing my face
A feeling I can’t replace
Stop short of hate
There’s a place for me to go
Far from here
I’ll be waiting there
Herminia Chow 
perhaps that place is not so far away,
but lies in who you are,
and not
in where you are not.
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Perhaps you are right. Maybe my happy place is within me. And I have yet to find it.
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