everyone needs a home.
a place of rest.
an island to go to,
a place without bars,
or wire,
or the dread of no hope.
to have a bed. a chair, books.
a quiet room
all your own, a refuge
to regroup, repair.
I was without joy for
over a year, seems so
much longer,
that time behind the wall
of dead love.
but now it's back,
there's peace, there's
joy, there's no longer
abuse or fear.
no more of that.
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