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Description
I sat at home.
If you could call it that.
It\'s not even cozy anymore.
It\'s like a winter breeze.
It nips at your nose.
It makes your fingers numb.
It takes away your breath.
I quietly whisper \'please\'.

I sit by The Crown.
My only escape.
The door says \"Closed\".
I know it\'s for good.
They won\'t open again.
I won\'t hear the tunes.
I won\'t get to sing.
When they cover it with wood.

I sit at the park.
I used to go there for peace.
Sit on the swings.
Watch the little girls and boys.
Now it\'s become an annoyance.
The kids say nasty things.
What used to be peaceful,
is now a bunch of noise.

I sit in the hall at school.
Where I used to wait to sit.
It was the highlight of my day.
To eat and see my friends.
Now there is noone there.
Everyone has found a new hall.
People rarely say \'hi\'.
The silence never ends.

I sit at the river.
Where I once saw a beaver.
And the wind blows my hair.
Where I used to write.
But the rocks are all slippery.
The water is gross.
The skateboarders are loud.
And nothing seems right.

I sit inside myself.
Plading for an escape.
Talking to people through little holes.
Hoping it will only be awhile.
I wait for that time,
when things go back to normal.
When I can look happy.
When I can smile.

Description
I sat at home.
If you could call it that.
It\'s not even cozy anymore.
It\'s like a winter breeze.
It nips at your nose.
It makes your fingers numb.
It takes away your breath.
I quietly whisper \'please\'.

I sit by The Crown.
My only escape.
The door says \"Closed\".
I know it\'s for good.
They won\'t open again.
I won\'t hear the tunes.
I won\'t get to sing.
When they cover it with wood.

I sit at the park.
I used to go there for peace.
Sit on the swings.
Watch the little girls and boys.
Now it\'s become an annoyance.
The kids say nasty things.
What used to be peaceful,
is now a bunch of noise.

I sit in the hall at school.
Where I used to wait to sit.
It was the highlight of my day.
To eat and see my friends.
Now there is noone there.
Everyone has found a new hall.
People rarely say \'hi\'.
The silence never ends.

I sit at the river.
Where I once saw a beaver.
And the wind blows my hair.
Where I used to write.
But the rocks are all slippery.
The water is gross.
The skateboarders are loud.
And nothing seems right.

I sit inside myself.
Plading for an escape.
Talking to people through little holes.
Hoping it will only be awhile.
I wait for that time,
when things go back to normal.
When I can look happy.
When I can smile.