I slept in my car again,
Not due to lack of housing,
Rather due to lack of home.

Before you start to rationalize,
Hear me out.

Home is where there is love,
Where there is safety,
A sense of belonging.

I pay rent for a roof and four walls,
But being there ***** away my life,
So I'd rather sleep on the road.

My spirit craves so much improvement,
That I can not get laying in a warm bed,
But from working until I crash.

My poetry is suffering,
But my suffering is poetry fueling
My life as I write my future.

I turn each page with excitement,
Because this ending
will be happily ever after.

I know.
I pay attention to foreshadowing.