Greener Grass - Poem

I'm sick of walking around.
With my eyes glued to the ground.
I want to see faces and trees.
People enjoying their day.
I like lights on buildings.
People on main street.
Cars on the highway.
Having a purpose to go outside.
Even just to exercise.
It's not enough sometimes.
When you can't escape darkness.
Having to travel 50+ miles.
To visit a place with promise.
Starts to become depressing upon returning.
Try coming up with a plan.
To move to that 'promised land'.
Not sure I have the confidence to succeed.
The grass is dead and brown.
But alive and well further south.
The grass is green.

WZ