(I don't like this because it isn't my best work. Its sort of supposed to be about the house I live in now, and how much I miss the old house, the old me, my old life.)**




I stare at the walls all around me.
Color splashing from every corner.
Green and blue, bright and cheery.
Its not a place where I like to be.
I stare in the mirror.
Who is the stranger looking back at me?
This is not where I belong.
It's just a temporary home.
If I could get to where I belong,
This brokenness in me might begin to heal.
If I could walk around my home,
I wont take a thing, but a memory.