Home…

I like to pen my woes but then you know
My spite is rife and sometimes it may show
And I’ll pretend that all is in it’s flow
Tonight I may delight as funds are blown

I’ll try to tend my notes, my wallet close
I like a wine it’s fine to blow my dough
I’d like to own some better clothes and grow
Collections of contraptions, show my bros

I like to pen my woes but then you know
‘Tis form despised the people mourn for pros
Despite I can show insight when alone
In presence of the essence as I clone

And all is lost the cost is still bestowed
The path is crossed and I’ll never know home…

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