TO BE

Home is where the Heart is, so where is mine?

All I can do is sit there in Despair hoping for a sign that everything will be fine I look around and see the ruins around me, when oh when will we be free?

I wait for another day reminiscing a time when the clouds weren't crying, when the birds were singing and

the grass was evergreen, instead filling my ears are the sounds of a mean machine

So when this war finally comes to a halt I hope to have many more laughs with my loved ones and once again roam my home with my heart filled with pure gold.