Profundity

My small prison home
A base based prison home
A sight for sore eyes
I'm blinded by the lack of lights
In a home I never got to show
Or even call my own at all
Indifference written in cursive fond
These walls are thin I hear the rain
It won't stop
Oh is this storm my home?

Memories lie here on the floor
With unloved laughs and unsolved loves
So carelessly but beautifully stored
Behind these wooden-glass
These wooden-glass
Doors

In our prison homes
We just exist proficiently alone
Opened chapters recklessly closed
A petrichor who hates the rain in a storm
Oh is this storm my home?

Memories lie here on the floor
With unloved laughs and unsolved loves
So carelessly but beautifully stored
Behind these wooden-glass
These wooden-glass
Doors

Naivety never negotiates
With effortless pain
When helping words are drowned
By debilitating rain
We fill the void with things that clock the drain
You drive me insane
I drove me insane

Memories lie here on the floor
They left rocks on the ground
But it's not a place to throw around at all
And now they know that I lack self-control
The rain is whispering
That this has never been
No this has never been
My home

Don't mind the words I said
My prison home is in my head



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