PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I don't think I've ever felt this alone,

so I take out my guitar and play a song that reminds me of home.

The home I remember

where people really cared

it now seems so far away

but in my mind I keep reaching for those better days,

and for awhile it seems like they were never really gone.

I miss living with a purpose, not just being alive

when people cared if I lived or died

back when I had a reason to wake up each morning

and when being here actually had a meaning

home is a lie and my name serves no purpose

I'm not connected to you

I don't do the things you do,

thanks a lot for shattering my world.

You're not my family,

you don't care nothing about me.