Home is where the heart is
My coming home experience
It’s like she was playing an endless he of ping pong,
Her opponent was her reflection,
Her disease has made progression,
She serves the ball to herself,
But the ball doesn’t come back,
she had nothing left,
And the mirror began to crack.
Confusion sets in, and she’s falling again,
Now she can’t pretend,
That she’s not lost from within,
Chaos in her soul,
Threatens her existence,
She doesn’t feel whole,
There’s so many restrictions.
Which way does she turn,
She’s so used to running,
So she ignores the burn,
But her disease is so cunning.
It whispers her lies,
Tries to pull her down,
But her heads in the skies,
And she refuses to drown.
