Homes are warm and welcoming.
These houses are cold, locked, and hostile.
The air aroud them sheds poison.
The nights ring with ominous fire.
Days burn away in silence.
I am lost outside, day weakening me.
Night's arrival, I fear.
My being shakes, but I am taken.
Away, away, away. . .
Seen once in my flight home.
Emaciated life is found abundant.
The vegitation lies tormented in ditches.
Dehydrated and miserable,only weeds grow.
I fail myself, falling, falling, falling. . .
The ground it solid and sears my skin.
My eyes fall close and I remember my place.
No longer a house, it is my home.
Warm, soft, and mine. I found my final home.
YOU ARE READING
Uniquely Inspired Extras
PoetryI published a book called Uniquely Inspired. (Yes, my username.) Here, I shall post poems that did not get into the original book. They cover all genres, all subjects, and more! Please, do not use any of them unless you ask me.
