Going Home

I miss my home and all that it is,

Full and loud, it is what it is,

It is all that I miss.

I miss my sister's smile,

I miss my books and files,

I love my cold kitchen tiles.

The normal bend of my bed,

The music playing constantly in my head,

The wonderful food to be fed,

The familarity of home is calling,

The longing for death is falling, 

I am walking now not crawling.

He has picked me up into his arms,

Now I am safe from harm.