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My "House"

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A house is a house no matter how you look at it
but a home is a house without the tragic

With minds closed like a fly traps lips
smallthings canbreak you, like stones and sticks

When the world is moving normally, but fast
i cover up my face with a happy mask
and pretend.....

pretend that my world is normal and sane
and like everyone elses
so peaceful and plain
reality hit
no more peace remains

annimosity is the key that opens a door to wrath
to a door leading to a destructive path
i once was nothing by that "key" to that "door"
no more....no more

i cant explain but im quite content and coming out of the sand
toeverybody pitching into give a helping hand
my house is not a place to go for all the pain imsealing
because a house is made of walls and ceilings
but homes are made with loving feeings




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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

jaygonz said...
Nov. 24, 2010 at 8:53 pm:
i like the fact that you can put into words what i think of when i go home, keep writing, i swear :)
 
Asylum replied...
Nov. 29, 2010 at 11:52 am :
thanks you should read my poem "A Mother's Rage" when it gets published.
 
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