My lifes on the brink
My heart is so heavy
It will surely sink
I’m wondering whether I could ever think
No matter how long its been
Whether or not I am fully grown
This most certianly is not my home
It never has and never will
And yet here I stay paying the electric bill
and no matter how loud the sound
The House stands akward and still
No one ever seems to have their fill
And what I do is strictly against my will
Did I ask to live here?
Did anyone ask if it was okay with me?
Does anyone care?
Small or tall
Young or not at all
This home is not for me to call
Born here I was and raised I was here
But I have little attachment to what should be dear
And what I should love is what I most fear
This is not my home
When everyone is around I feel alone
And this paranoia won’t be gone
Although the sickness I have grown fond
But this is not my house or my place
When I look upon it I do not see my face
Home is where the heart is
That is what people say
But the heart is no where to be seen

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