written by: Precibus
Feeling so out-of-place.
What my body wants and needs, this isn't me.
I'm always longing for someplace else and now I realize,
I want a place to be free.
These streets, this town, this nation are not my home.
No wonder I can't identify with what isn't my own.
I'm never satisfied, I will never be satisfied.
What I want can only be found inside my mind.
Nothing I seek is in what I buy.
No wonder that by money I was never mystified.
My home is where what I believe without seeing lies.
What I feel in my bones is the bare bones of my house.
What can I do to make it real?
What can I feel, and does what I feel arouse the walls from the floor,
or the roof from the ground?
I have been living in so many fractions, in a room of ideas, but now
I want to build my world in actions.
I need to see my Walden come alive.
Before my flesh comes undone, allow me and my home to arrive.