Coming Home

As the mind wanders and night rises

I find myself uneasy

A string of perpetual sorrow

Reveling in past glory and misery

As if my present life

Belongs to the ceiling and the walls

Of the room I once explored

Love and life as a teenager

What simple treasures long past

And yet I hold tight

When the silky cloud of my past

Seeps and dwells beneath my skin

Red bumps and stress rise

Lacking release and a strong mind

For which I feel chained and unbroken

Treading the rain that resembles all I have left and forgotten.


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