Home | a poem
I always cry when I am home I guess I'm meant to be alone And now and then I feel like stone, Powerless, unable to roam. For years I've left my home a mess, Counted myself among the blessed And now I am a silhouette Swallowed by subliminal stress. I watch the stars above my bed And count the colors, blue to red (Looks like the contents of my head) While the rest of me turns to lead. I am always sad when you go For time will never ever slow; When I look back I still feel low Because I see what you don't know: You always cry when you are home But you shall never be alone-- I'm here for you through sea and stone; We'll be together forever And then some.