Empty. Longing for home..
Wondering, as I look around, why am I here?
Never feeling familiar surroundings, only
unknown ground... Not wanting to be here, any
more...
Home, I miss...
I continue to be swollowed up by it... wanting
to be back there...
I cry on my pillow lace...every night...
Linda Mary Rachel Haungs
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pillow-lace/
