Inside
  these lonely thoughts
I dream of a time
When I am not
This thing I’ve become

But it’s too late
The clock has slipped
Forward just a little too much
To take a step back
And undo all the things
That I have done

I can’t find
The path home
But then
I don’t know
That home exists
It isn’t anyplace
I remember

Every road
Seems to lead
Someplace familiar

Pain and sorrow
Emptiness
And most certainly
Anger
Maybe those places
Are home