Move in. Move out. Move on.
Move in – the door squeaks.
You’ll take more than a peek,
For this new home will not want to be outgrown.
Darkness turns to light,
You were up all night,
Finding the secrets which were meant to be kept out of sight.
Then the dust settles in,
And you’ll feel trapped within,
Since the good times have somehow become unquestionably trite.
Move out – the door slams.
The lock is now jammed,
And the keys are no longer working.
But there are more nooks to unlock,
More homes on another block,
While the memory of that safe-haven will painstakingly flock.
Time spent remembering,
Will only bring trembling,
Because you thought you would live there for longer.
So it’s time to shift gears,
Find a home that’s nowhere near -
A struggle that will only make you stronger.
Move on – the door sighs.
You’re surrounded by flies,
For now you’re a bum off to a questionable start.
But there’s hope in the streets.
This is not defeat.
Just follow the real estate agent that you call your heart.