Anywhere But Home

November 9, 2010
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They say home is where
the heart is, not so for me

home is corrupt and home is
wretched, home is the last house
on the left, the only one

without the white picket
fence and the freashly
painted shutters

They say home sweet home,
I think home horrid home as the
vile smell of the doormat

that has welcomed to many
reaches my nose

I listen to the deep creaks
and moans of the house
as I place my foot on
the threashhold

Peering inside, trying to see
past the gloom, I remember what
They ask...

And where will you be
spending eternity?

I gently close the door and
step off the ancient porch
as I walk down the path
I say

Anywhere but here,
Anywhere but home

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