Somewhere,
In a small house,
There is hope.
Someday,
On a cool spring day,
There will be light.
Somehow,
You and I,
Will find it.
But
This place holds you,
Harms you,
Heals you,
Harms you again.
This place will keep you,
Till the days are dim,
The lights are out,
The final hand stops
Ticking
Ticking
Ticking
And we fade away to dust.
