This was inspired by the prompt for the FreeWriteFriday of last week.
At least no one else is here to see me Be as lost as I can be. And though I huddle in the night No one’ll be able to call me a blight. Don’t forget me, house I pray Or make me just another forgotten that here lay. No, I am worth something more Even though I huddle by this door. Done though it may seem I am How often I must live on the lam. Oh how I never thought it would be like this, Under the sky before sounded like a life of bliss. So let my weary bones protest Even through this trial and test.