Poem #30 Headed Home

Inspired by the song by Gryffin. Change is unavoidable, but when it takes a hold of your life you find all that you are grateful for.

Poor sport someone
Is the source
No more on poverty now yes to
No more making a wish
No more cheap dollar store dishes
No more bad birthday wishes
People gonna talk,
Now people are out of my sight,
Teach me to do right,
I can’t believe I still believe in us,
I still watch us disappear from each
I still talk about you, I still remember
Trying to forget those times,
Those delays with you,
I am sorry for the parking lots,
I am sorry for the sunrise addictions,
For the stories of exaggerated fiction,
I am the man, I am the one to blame,
Oh, how fragile your frame,
Now I carry that Name,
Above every tower,
Hiding on the hour,
Every hour,
Poor sport across  the court,
I lose, and you win,
Your life is still on  the end,
On the edge,
Now I still remember,
The new november,
Older, better, faster, and
Maybe never stronger,
Headed home aren’t you?
Up there to the Northwest,
I remember all those I cannot
Stay a little longer,
For change feels like something
To feel,
Something never to unreal,
I am sorry for the parking lots,
For pulling under the lights,
For keeping us up at night,
Headed towards a new story,
A poor sport at playing with
I am in constant motion,
So spin with me,
And tumble down with me,
I am alive still,
And that is more than enough,
Stay feeling,
Keep it close,
For pain will not go away,
Even when everyone does

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