A Winter’s Night

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.
 
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This was inspired by the prompt for the FreeWriteFriday of last week.