For so long I have felt that

I have always been homeless.

As a child, there were tough times,

Afraid to go back to the house, because

You were afraid of what you would find.

This…is not what I am here to say.

As a young teen, a step mother came

A mother no better than the first,

So Her house never felt like home.

…not what I am here to say.

Since the last few years as a teen, until now

I have  made many a nest, but somehow

A place where you’re existing alone,

This is just a camp, without a fire. 

…not what I am here to say.

I have been to many a house, where

My friends tried to make me at home.

Somehow I always shut the door,

This was their home,

I was an uncomfortable guest.

This Is what I am Here to Say

Like a sound from light, I realize,

It is that child

Who is still running,

Running away from Home.

  © 2008 Carin' Spirit