Home is where I want to be,
but I guess I’m already
there.
Although, this strange place
doesn’t feel like home.
My bed smells all wrong,
and the marks I made on my walls
aren’t here.
The land is flat,
and the birds don’t sing
the same songs when I rise
in the morning.
The spring in my step doesn’t
feel quite the same,
and I lose myself on a simple
path.
There will come a time,
however,
when I will call this place
my home.