The place we call home
And the presence of dread.
The room fills with silence,
No words are said.
The table stands alone
With no one around.
No soul to be found.
Hidden in our rooms,
While the chiefs are downstairs,
Drinking away,
To fill their despairs.
The place we call home is vacant.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
The place we call home
And the presence of dread.
The room fills with silence,
No words are said.
The table stands alone
With no one around.
No soul to be found.
Hidden in our rooms,
While the chiefs are downstairs,
Drinking away,
To fill their despairs.
The place we call home is vacant.
