I Will Not Go Home Poem by Tony Adah

Here I am with a scorched throat
And a receptacle in my hand
Looking for someone to wet my seared throat and fill my pitcher
If they don't I know who will fill
And wet my throat as I look on
To the hills and valleys for watershed.

There is water everywhere
Still I am thirsty like
A wilted lily
Shrivelled in the desert
Where the carmels have trampled
Upon the earth.

I will not go home
Until my pitcher is filled
My throat lubricated by
The liquid of life
And on my return
I have a story to tell
That when I came
I saw and I conquered.