Home - Poem by Adam Smitherman
I'm sitting here all by my lonesome self.
This can't be me.
This is someone else.
I've lived my life.
I've had my dreams.
But life just isn't what it used to be.
Crime is raising.
Buildings are falling.
I can hear in the distance someones world crumbling.
As I look through pictures of my past.
Thinking of all the good times that I had.
Man those days just didn't last.
They went by way too damn fast.
And now I have find reality.
I don't see the things I used to see.
I am not who I used to be.
Because all my bullshit changed when I found my sanity.
I see this world changing.
Right before my eyes.
The blue sky has turned to gray.
This life is not like it is was yesterday.
This is not what I call home.
These days can chill you to the bone.
Cause now you're sitting all alone.
In the place that you call home.
Comments about Home by Adam Smitherman
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
- Still I RiseMaya Angelou
- The Road Not TakenRobert Frost
- If You Forget MePablo Neruda
- DreamsLangston Hughes
- Annabel LeeEdgar Allan Poe
- Stopping By Woods On A Snowy EveningRobert Frost
- IfRudyard Kipling
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And WeepMary Elizabeth Frye
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love YouPablo Neruda
- TelevisionRoald Dahl