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Poem
To have a home was always something I dreamt of growing into.
But it seemed to be out of my reach.
Each time I'd get close enough to reach out and touch it,
It would crawl back and stay there for me to seek.

I would try my best to catch it, keep it,
and hold it in my hands,
Force it there to stay with me,
like a Shepard holding a lamb.

But that home would roll away,
into the pitfalls of my many dreams,
And the tears I wept on my pillow would drop to the chasms
to make those tired desires gleam.

Immune to the thought that I'd always be lost,
and never find a home,
my poor heart was like a good nightmare,
that would never change its tone.

No matter how many times you begged,
your knees sore from the floor,
that stubborn soul would smile a little,
like taking delight in a heavy chore.

So, it stayed this way, that she would be,
but never be able,
to have a home, it was hers to make,
like a lonely cookie plate on a grandmas table.

Anticipating, that home might come,
without any strength inside her,
but forever ending in disappointment,
that young soul'd will was dire.

She never asked another to help her,
that heavy dream was hers,
until she could have it to cherish and share,
or the opposite; it would disperse.

And so, many years of moving around,
never a home but a house,
that tiny child found herself wanting to trade places,
with that "saddened-eyed" mouse;

The little rodent would get up every day,
and stretch from his straw bed,
make himself cheese and milk,
and brush its furry head,

Comb throughout its tail,
every tangle gone away,
excited for the same routine,
the same bright and cheery day,

To try for an adventure, to take the risk,
grab the cheese!
No trap could hold this little mouse,
it got away with ease,

it looked forward to everything in life,
the full belly, and the rest,
the final stretch and yawn it took,
to get the sleep it loves best,

The youngest dreamer of her family,
for the treacherous years that passed,
had still found time to make her dream,
not be one of the last,

she had many dreams,
and most were doable,
the simplest of all,
seemed the one that was doomed and dull,

it was just to have a home,
nothing more, nothing less,
but too much to ask for,
for a family that has to clutch their chests,

a group so tight their smells were alike,
the sweetness was only delight,
and when they went to bed that night,
they knew someone's prayers were with them tonight.

So maybe she never got her dream,
the easiest of all,
a home,never1/2
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