We made a home,
The sort of home you call your own.
I loved it there-
People always coming and going,
It was almost perfect there.
But we had it all taken away-
My things are in boxes,
Gravities could no longer hold us down.
It was having a home
And having it taken away.
I'm scared to go back there.
The porch will never sit the same-
I'll never be the same.
We moved by the river,
Foxes for neighbors.
But there is still a weight
Resting on my bones,
I still think about that home.
A place I found to finally call my own.
I hope the memories fade away,
Fast away.
I feel sad having had it taken away.
Place to place
I've found I've gone,
But all I want
Is a home of my own
A simple life,
With a clock that ticks slow.
A place for dreams to grow,
A place to call my own.
In three months time
I'll move far to the west.
Maybe then I'll unpack the boxes
Begin to live.
I have this whole story written-
Where the mountains are higher
The sky wider
The lakes deeper
And a home to build.
A place with lots of people,
The good kind of people.
Then I'll start my life new,
Free from the fears I've found here-
Let go of lies.
Then
There I'll start to truly live my life.
