Home Poem by robert butterfield
Home
This place in my mind
Is what you call home
This place in my mind
Is what you call mine
In my head
So cold, and dead
In my home
I to feel alone
Cold and wet
What drips is regret
This place
This dead space
Satisfied with the emptiness
Satisfied with this bitter taste
Nothing could fill this empty space
Not even your warm grace
Sunday, August 18, 2013
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5/2/2024 2:05:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
good write, thanks, I like it. I invite you to read my poems and comment.