Where The Heart Is...

I don’t expect the sun light, not in the rain
I don’t expect to see my N'awins again
Home is where the heart is, or so I've heard
Then home is black and shattered and rank with old blood
Cold and frozen like, wind blown slush and ice
Home

Alice Stockman took wings in ninety and eight
Left behind sweet memories in which we still partake
In birthday parties and homemade cakes
Sunday dinners; every one a winner

Home

Gave all to an urchin who threw all to the side
For a match to the ass of a tempered glass pipe
Was it worth that bump, that grind, that six second high?
Disappeared in December
On a Tuesday night
with no goddamned goodbye

Home

Took Braine, Bailey and Adrian
Triumvirate souls of a poet, a dreamer, a soldier, my friend
And a new world of possibilities, new worlds without end
Until the whole world ended

Home
Where momma cried
Head shaved for warfare like Ethel's was
Decades before
Tears raced down her face, hope versus fear
It took a miracle to raise her up
Momma still here

I don't expect to see the sun shining in rain
I don't expect to fail, to succeed or maintain
Home is where the heart is, so I've been told
I'm a heartless man; because I can't go home