When the place you live is dangerous and monsters are free to
Roam,
Tempers can snap in an instant; you never feel safe in your
Home.
When longing for solace gets toxic, it clings to your skin like a
Glove,
Trust is too risky an offering: a kick to the shin is called
Love.
Hungry eyes glare from the shadows, feasting on bits of your
Soul,
You try to be small and invisible, perpetual unease takes its
Toll.
So before you prattle about Homecomings, give the Devil his
Due,
Not every home is a happy one, not everyone’s family is
True.
About the Creator
Glad Doggett
Reader. Writer. Wanderer. Lover of crosswords
& artfully crafted sentences.
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