In a dark place.
Where the sun never shone.
This is the place.
That I call home.

Where the wind howls.
The roof leaks.
All the windows are broken.
An the floor squeaks.

Where in the dead of winter.
The wind bites my nose.
All year long.
The rats nip my toes.

The wood is rotten.
No fire to stoke.
This is what remains.
of what was broke.

No one else lives here.
I'm all alone.
Singing sad songs.
In a sad empty home.

Why am I here.
These thoughts do grind.
What to do now.
With a broken mind.