Every morning,
When the clock strikes 5,
I get up and sit outside.

I count the people that walk past me,
I hear the words that they speak.

It makes no sense,
Why people want other's pain,
If I were them, I'd not feel sane.

That is why I wish for a peaceful meal,
And a day that wouldn't involve kills.

I want to reach home,
Without a hole in my heart,
And want to stay instead of falling apart.

Is it so hard,
To find what I desire?
I think it is,
Because I always feel tired.

When the people finally go away, I stand up and go inside my 'home', praying to make it alive today.