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Finding a Home

I always yearned for the sky to turn blue
Walking in the rain was all I knew
I would halfheartedly splash around
My true feelings never did make a sound
Never did have a home
Optimistically I thought it was luck to freely roam
Walked around in my waned pink boots
Sometimes tripping over overgrown tree roots
I had no idea what I was doing
No idea how I was loosing
I was only eight
To stubborn to take on hate 
I lived near the gutter
With the hopeless people who muttered
Muttered how people should feel sympathy
But they didn’t have it as hard as me
We all slept under cardboard
But in their hearts they had love from a family stored
I slept through cold winter nights
And through shooting gang fights
I lived life rough
But was tough
Yet somewhere inside I was frustrated
Rejected by society and hated
But the truth that hurt the worst was that I was sad
Being told I’m loved was something I never had
Hate in my heart tugged
I always wondered what it was like to have the warmth of a hug
I didn’t let my emotions hide
In my boxed home I started to cry
Created enough attention to draw Christ by
A pastor came and tipped my box over
Saw me curled up in a ball sober
Lets go home he said
Your father is expecting you from the bible he read
From there I was lead
To a church to be fed
On the way
I was softly crying on that beautiful day
I whispered to myself, “I have a Dad”
I knew then and there I never again had to be sad

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