M's Poetry
This Home
Tears well up to stand strong
against the grain I fight this pain
grasping at something that maybe
was never there
It's thinking of you locked behind bars
how it's never your fault
time is like a staple
that constantly brings you back
I should know better, have a stiff upper lip
but I emerge with both eyes black
behind the mask lies in wait
someone I recognize....but just can't see
I am ashamed that we share blood
the picture smiles doesn't it?
but it's not really us
our replacements for just a little while
until the rain falls down
than it's back to what draws you center
it's not this home, it's your drugs
and I am not competing no more for your love....
When you go this time my hurt
will extend beyond any ceiling
maybe the prison walls can teach you
something freedom never did
four walls without windows seems so bleak
but I have been told
misery loves company
so instead of writing your same old letters
just don't bother
paper shouldn't be wasted
I will lower the volume on my answering machine
because I just can't take any more of your messages
cuz it's not this home, it's your drugs
and I am not competing no more for your love....
2005@ Copyright by Megan Bishop
against the grain I fight this pain
grasping at something that maybe
was never there
It's thinking of you locked behind bars
how it's never your fault
time is like a staple
that constantly brings you back
I should know better, have a stiff upper lip
but I emerge with both eyes black
behind the mask lies in wait
someone I recognize....but just can't see
I am ashamed that we share blood
the picture smiles doesn't it?
but it's not really us
our replacements for just a little while
until the rain falls down
than it's back to what draws you center
it's not this home, it's your drugs
and I am not competing no more for your love....
When you go this time my hurt
will extend beyond any ceiling
maybe the prison walls can teach you
something freedom never did
four walls without windows seems so bleak
but I have been told
misery loves company
so instead of writing your same old letters
just don't bother
paper shouldn't be wasted
I will lower the volume on my answering machine
because I just can't take any more of your messages
cuz it's not this home, it's your drugs
and I am not competing no more for your love....
2005@ Copyright by Megan Bishop