Lost Home
There is a saying, many ways that lead to Rome
But I can’t even find a decent map
It’s like standing lost and blind in the woods
Sticking out my hands in hopes of grabbing a branch
When I grab that branch, I hang on to it for life
But the branch snaps, leaving me empty again
Trying to focus on a shimmering light in the far distance
Not sure it’s something, I walk to it frantically
Don’t want to be in these woods alone any longer
I start walking fast, falling, get up and run faster
When I come closer, there is a small inviting cabin
With a light, a warmth, a smell that feels like home
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