January 30, 2013


I'm back home,
in my familiar old room,
like other times before,
each trip brings me closer
to my reward,
waiting somewhere nearby,
or so I am told.
On the dresser, my youth
is captured in frames,
childhood friends,
long-lost games.
On the wall above,
hangs the name
of my school,
where I learned every day
to be nobody's fool,
and through the window,
lies the world
where I've lived,
so far down below
no one knows when,
before awakening here,
ready to start
all over again.