I have a foxhole.
It isn't home.
Always moving, unable to set myself in stone. Fleeting friends go by, and as always I start again, alone.
It isn't my workplace.
Toiling hours and bags beneath my eyes. Promises of progress; empty lies.
It wasn't in my school.
Striving, driving to be known. Failing, drowning, and now I'm grown.
It isn't in my mind.
A whirling, twisting maze of thoughts. An unfocused drifter, wasting time until my body rots.
It isn't in my soul.
When questions, doubts, fill my head until it aches. The intangible spirit, and yet I can feel it bend until my body breaks.
It isn't ... anywhere ...
I have a foxhole.
It isn't home.
Always moving, unable to set myself in stone. Fleeting friends go by, and as always I start again, alone.
It isn't my workplace.
Toiling hours and bags beneath my eyes. Promises of progress; empty lies.
It wasn't in my school.
Striving, driving to be known. Failing, drowning, and now I'm grown.
It isn't in my mind.
A whirling, twisting maze of thoughts. An unfocused drifter, wasting time until my body rots.
It isn't in my soul.
When questions, doubts, fill my head until it aches. The intangible spirit, and yet I can feel it bend until my body breaks.
It isn't ... anywhere ...
