Coming home,
I thought it'd be different this time
No more bedtime cries late at night
Lonely days be gone
I thought they were
Maybe its just that expectations are skewed.

You have your life
Do you know you have mine?
Without you, and numbed mind
I sit and I write
I sit and I cry
I sit and I stare at the walls until I die.

Boredom it is called
Ordinary form, it is not
Not with these memories on the walls
Intricate frames, look into the image
Watch as it plays scenes of the past
Each wall is covered
You'll be entertained for hours.

Hours and hours go by
Three months time
One question remains
Will I make it alive?