Home

Home wasn’t all the apartment I’ve had a bed in Or the house where I finally had my own room It was in my mothers arms and In my fathers late drunken talks Home isn’t the blue painted room I was given Home has three other kids talking to me every hour And three cats by my feet Every time I opened the fridge Now my feet are cold when I sleep For there’s no cat snuggling beside them Home isn’t quiet. It has the sound of food cooking With songs playing too loud on the speakers While children play But now all I hear is the tick tock of the clock on my desk Now I wear both of my earbuds For there’s no one that will call my name, Needing me to go do something. There’s no kids I’m hearing out for. No cat bell prancing around Or the sound of my dads car when it locks Home was in a Mustang I washed every weekend Or before heading ten minutes down the road To see the love of my life But now even they aren’t there anymore