It’s right there,
This place,
Filled with three similar face,
They call it home,
Cause they live there.
A place filled little love and lots of fear,
Always bringing not only a tear.
Out of joy or sadness,
There’s a lot of strange madness.
Screams and shouts through all of its halls,
Your soul filled with pain carried by its walls.
Heart is aching,
You see what he is making.
Now it should be better,
a familiar voice whispers.
But you don’t trust and only get madder.
A feeling of pressure,
A feeling of fear.
Should you do more or just lay here?
Is this alright or is it wrong?
Is there more?
Will they get mad?
Can I do this?
Can I eat it?
Can I rest here?
Won’t they need me?
Isn’t a home a comfortable place?
Filled with love and grace?
Filled with positive energy along with discussions?
Filled with glory and happiness?
Sometimes there’s also good madness,
But never fear, that tears apart.
Tears apart a family with all their good hearts…
Somewhere on a hill, across a street and over many streets,
There are other places you call home.
The harmony matching,
Failures always forgetting,
Nothing feels regretting.
You can be loud or silent,
No one is bothered,
Theres no violence.
The most important thing of all,
You can be you,
Even if you fall.