They say home is where your heart is,
But mines been on the loose for years now.
It bounces around from door to door,
looking for a permanent fixture.
It pounds at the door,
waiting for someone to open up and take it in as their own.
As it walks, rejected, it wonders if it is on an odyssey,
Later emerging as a hero,
or rather a lost cause,
destined to travel on a broken road,
With cracks and scars that match its own.
I don’t know where i’ll go,
And I don’t really care.
Yesterday I thought I had dreamt of something pleasant,
But it was only a new punchline to the same recurring nightmare.