"Childhood Home"

Little thoughts of insanity,
Grab hold of the heart in me,
And take me to this place I see
That holds this pain of memory,
Which resides in this place of history.

Brown carpets of the deepest hue,
Covered the home in which I grew,
And this was all my little heart knew,
In this shack with its rooms numbering two.

Sisters and family bided by me,
Stamping down their deep insanity,
From these young eyes that see,
Far more than their hidden depravity.

As I grew older and my family moved away,
From this place that held my childhood's day,
Instability grew where contentment used to lay,
In this house that held my childhood's play.

Now I come full circle and back again,
To this place I used to live in,
With these walls that were thin,
Capturing the living ghosts of the bravest men,
Making you weep for the innocence that was yesterday again.