Nomad
The lawlessness of the river runs through my veins. I don't know how to swim, I know how not to drown. It's easy to run away from home when there's over a dozen kids crawling along the mud like pigs. My daughter asks, who do you miss? I say, I never was too close to anybody but I remember the butcher and his son, who raped me. Daughter, we are gypsies. Home is a dream we had one day.