Home

I complain too much.

For years this house was empty
Broken windows
Scratched paint
The doors won’t shut.

Our haven taken for granted
Left to rot under the weather
Every rain drop sinking it down
Even deeper under the dirt

This floor feels so cold
The walls rough and old
But for all that matters
This is all I know

You say you don’t know
If this is our home or just a shelter
But why fret?
No one knows the difference

Our bare walls protect us
They only let the cold in through the cracks
And the gush of wind that stirs inside
Knocking down whatever stands

You say you want out
Wish to get lost from here
But if this isn’t home
Then why always come back?