No place like home is what they say,
But that’s not always true, my way.
Escape is what I need sometimes,
As ivy on my heart climbs,
I want to flee far away,
And loose count of night and day.
Like a careless leaf with the wind sways.
Time heals all wounds is what they say,
But that’s not always true, my way.
With time, my scars deeped,
Never forgot how I weeped,
The lock on door remains still,
Reminds of pain,
That almost killed.
They love, is what they say,
But that’s not always true, my way.
Genuine and pure are words now,
An actor forgets them after the bow,
The things which meant the world to crowd.
Were never meant when said out loud.
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