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Home Lost
Home
Vines grow over a rotten tree house.
Tin toys gather dust on the shelf.
Youth’s light flickers back on me
as I stand here by myself.
The mind of a child is no more than a dream
Floating with laughter, light and hope.
Now it stands before me, dead and cold
Darker now in a larger scope.
Blue paint peels,
Shutters creak in the wind,
The light is gone and laughter has left
Leaving silence with no end.
Where is the life?
Gone when my bright eyes turned gray.
In the darkness I lie now,
Vanished is the sun’s final ray.
My heels turn away on the gravel road.
To this place I will never return.
This, the corpse of a time long past
Since then, the cold truth I have learned.
I stand here again, tired and alone
Gone is the child,
Gone is my home.
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