A Empty Place

A place i call home.

A place i call home.
Not just any place but it’s a place.
I don’t want to be myself in.
A depressing place that leaves me no choice but to leave.
A white wooden house that falls apart once a light wind hits it.
A house that lives next door to mexico with the scent of tacos with extra cheese and tomato on it.
A place anyone wouldn’t want to live in because it doesn’t bring you happiness.
You feel blue every now and then.
It’s a place.
Better than nothing right.
Only one thing great about it is that there’s a big back yard that
Could fit 3 extra houses in
It but it’s empty like your soul and is only filled with dying roses
There’s no water to bring those roses back to life, or to help them at least.

Cause this home.
Doesn’t bring you happiness.
It’s a home but it’s an really old one
Walls are coming apart
Even the wooden floors.
That has cracks in it just like your the cracks in your heart
That isn’t removable.
Do you get what i’m saying?
Maybe not because
You feel like yourself at your home.
I just…

Want a house to call my home.

This poem makes me...
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