Home could be childhood
and streets made for play
home could be stories
of places to stay
But my home is nothing
than tears in delay
i guess it’s all right
‘cause I think it’s my way
You. You mesmerized me.
You. You paralysed me.
You. You. You confined me.
But I never called you home.
With dirt from my fingers
all covered with clay
I draw tiny riddles
to cover betray
I slept in the shadow
I danced night and day
with rhythm of madness
I ate your bouquet
You. You…
I don’t think I need it
Or that’s what I say
You’ll catch me in lying
some damn bloody day
It ruptured my future
It scratched my display
I knew from beginning,
I smelled the cliché
You. You…
If home is where heart is
it’s true what they say:
I think you just managed
to toss mine away
You. You mesmerized me.
…