The round fluorescent orange mango trees 

As I breathe in a salty breathe of air

I feel the sensation of the cold breeze 

The freshly soft wind blowing in my hair      

The window rolled down, the car driving fast

The peak of summer, the mid of July

The radio on with the Smiths on blast

Looking to my right I see the shore nearby

The grey mountain peaks are brushed by the clouds

As I sip a cup of coconut milk 

The nearby town, the streets full of crowds

Sitting on my grandma's soft yellow quilt 

My life, my roots, this is where I belong

Home, I could write about it all day long