I’m no longer laughing inside

I can’t hide myself 

The storm is eary cold

My feet feels wet 

Like it’s soaked and old

Grass a foot high is all around

I lean on a rock 

There’s a Whistling sound

It could be a storm

It definitely seems like one

Who’s going to save me

If I get swallowed up

I sure am missing home

A warm place to call my own

Fire in the fireplace 

Couches cozy and brown 

siblings to smile

Laugh at and play around

This will be my happiness 

Once I get out the storm