Whats To Call Home
I been here before, the waves towering, the constant hitting of the rocks seems to fit. The lack of sun is leaving a print.
The burning sensation reminds me what is good will be bad.
I wasn’t given much choice nor was I thrown.
I was born in the unknown.
I hear every pump my blood goes. The moans, cries & such noise leaves me terrified.
They reach out to what seemed known, but thrown to my home.
I’m not here alone, in such darkness formed our home.
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