No Place To Call Home Poem by bobby kramer jr.

I remember, there was a point in my life
when I had no home to go
living out of a motel
money was tight and emotions were low.
I always hated the feeling
of going to bed at night
sleeping in a bed that isn't yours
is a feeling that doesn't feel right.
even though I was quite young
I was a witness to it all
harbored many feelings
and remember the things I saw.
My father started selling drugs
to take us out of this place
he was doing everything he could
to put a smile back on our face.
I couldn't go outside
because there was nowhere to play
so, I would just stare out the window
watching the sunlight fade away.
I remember the day my dad got back
with a giant smile on his face
told us to pack our bags
were saying goodbye to this awful place.
I couldn't explain the feeling
just pure happiness
It was hard for me to stop smiling
that feeling was the best.