Every time,
I try to think of something else;
And every time,
I end up thinking of the same;
The times I've spent
Back home where I belong;
I've been driven out,
Yet I'm the one to blame.
I never knew what I had,
But I do now,
Those words that I may
Never say again;
The people met, or memories
Relived are not forgotten
By this astray,
Regretting dame.
--Sam S.