Home is an early grave
That welcomes you in
And away from the thunderous jeers of mankind

It keeps you contained in quiet
A false sense of ease
That smothers and swelters
In a slow, unraveling of time

Until no one is needed
In those walls and shades
That shy away, from the glare of existence

Home can be the noose that deprives
That diminishes, the flair and color of this life
When it has become, the entirety of the world

If you have the time, I would greatly appreciate it if you had a look at my latest collection of poetry, “The Slums of Nightfall.” It is available for purchase on Amazon and Createspace and it would make a great gift for avid poetry readers during this holiday season!