Poem: Home

It is time to go.

Back to the place that holds too much.

The spot where bridges are built and where they have been broken.

This is the places that knows me more than I could ever know myself.

I want to walk the streets that have no end.

I want to sit and watch the cars pass me by.

Go to end and just stand and listen to whatever sound the road bring.

Then travel the roads that are hidden in the dirt.

Look both ways, but still too afraid to cross the street.

I want to stand where the trees no longer barre shade.

The dirt roads lead to an adventure that you could never see.

The travels are long, but time is gone before it even began.

Where the houses are far away, but they feel so tight together.

This place holds everything, but it never got full.

Everyone knows you, but no one knows your name.

This is where I want to go.

Home.