Nauseous Nostalgia Poem by ikhalfani solan

Now I drag my mind to recall a place I knew well
A place where the scent of fresh bake dough entwine
The stench of the sewage that flows untamed
A place where slums raft on rivers that caress the rich mountainside
Resting in the valleys
As if to mock the affluence of the peak
A place where muzzles no longer silence dogs
But speak
A language that feed the dams like the drains from a slaughter house
Someday I will drag my feet
If only to roam
For now it will have to do
That I drag my mind
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