I MISS

I miss the flag yellow and blue

I miss the snow

I miss the flow

I miss the old chameleon show



I was the arm and the arrow

with aim still don’t know

passionately I brake the bow

I miss the breeze of the shadow

And the wooden statue



I miss Stockholm with no clue ..

of a refugee who love to brew..

a hopes of what he can not do

his heartbeat goes by slow.



I miss the sweet pain mix though

the sweet drop’s just few

Oh Sweden I miss you so

And the true lies I miss you too

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