Lost Home

The coffee still belonged to the bottom of the coffee cup,

the smell of ciggarettes I didn’t like,

still lingered inside the wooden tables..


My mind is till drifting off when I try to forget anything..


When  I walk through my garden outside,

the dead flowers are bringing  me back to the old time..


My old sweater seems to suit me well

and it still smells like the beach of California,

at dawn, where I walked and the sea drowned my thoughts..


“The last time was safe”, I think while I look through my window at the lighthouse,

still showing it’s pride..


Still looking at this time,

this house is shattered and broken.

I can’t find a little love in here,

I can’t find a little piece

Now I seem to find the good old memories,

the one’s  no one seems to find.

Now,  I feel home again,

I feel alive again..


3 thoughts on “Lost Home

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