'The Big Tourist' by Ravyn LaRue

I will not allow myself to be called a Chicagoan.
I will not stand to be assimilated.
I do not like it here and I fear I'm becoming one with it.
I do not like the person that I am here.
I do not like what this place makes me.

Oh, so you're from Chicago?
No, I wish to flee this wretched place.
Oh, so you live here?
I feel far from alive in this city.

I know well that a heart exists somewhere here.
I know of people who prove that.
But they are not what I am.
And I cannot afford to be consumed.

Oh, you're not very strong-
I'm strong enough to know I need elsewhere to survive.
Even the strongest beast, when out of their element, may be left defenseless.

Giordano's is swell, and the lake is lovely-
But home has Cossetta's and 11,842 lakes.
I feel so bitter here, and bitterness is something I wish to avoid.

Carl Sandburg's inspiration has long since faded away.
The tough-hearted streets have now become heartless.
And though I could try seeking out sincerity-
I know American dreams can never be caught.

But I want to watch action movies just to see the city destroyed.
I want to yell at those who brag up this wicked town.
I want to out its cruelty for all the world to see.

But the people who love it, adore it here.
And doing those things would only make me one of the cruel ones.
And I will never allow myself to be the bile I've been surrounded by.

Nope, I'm not a Chicagoan-
I am just a disgruntled tourist counting the days until I can be home again.