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.

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