When I abandon my home spirit
things start to grow weary.
As painful memories consume me
how will I know to never look back at anger?
The morning smell begs
creativity wants its place it calls haven.
New areas & new faces
adjusting to spark for inspiration,
but as time goes by,
the years bring me to decay.
My real home is where I belong –
If I don’t return, then I might as well drive myself
into complete madness.
Over @dVerse, Abhra has us writing on coming home.
© Charlie Zero and Home rips open my exo-skeleton, 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero and Home rips open my exo-skeleton with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.