West Poem by Treason

Awoke in a familiar cave.
Cleaned everything, made sure not to leave a trace.
But I keep coming back just to make sure my foot prints are still there.
Will it matter, will the next sleeper care?

I visited the cave, but am no longer welcome.
The rejection from what I called home is cold as a stone.
Within reach, but I can never ever grasp it again.

Now it's time to move on, to experience life beyond the cave.
But the memories within, strengthen me, yet weaken me to the core.