Here,
Here I am.
I’ve always wanted to be
Here.
But not for long.

Talent is relative,
And mine is falling.

So I’ll be sent back,
Into confused arms.
They will welcome the love,
Though they will not understand it.
Why am I there?
Why am I not here?

I will try to fit in.
Return to my group of youth,
Look to find it and see it gone,
Remnants scattered everywhere I can see.

I will look for open arms,
That closed for me a long time ago.
And once I am alone again,
Which way will my mind go?

Wandering through mixed messages,
Solace will be found,
Buried,
In greying memories of me there,
Until they become memories of me here.

And then I will repeat my cycle,
My human cycle of dissatisfaction.

For what you miss there,
You will miss here.