I wish I could describe the place where I live
I should probably call it a…house?
Yes yes, the place where we live ought to be called a house
But will you still describe it as one
If it is halfway to being one?
Has been so for many years now
There are rooms, yes; too many of them
Curtains too many, to keep the world from knowing what goes on in here
Furniture everywhere with no actual value nor aesthetic sense
It exists just like us, the inhabitants of this house
The outside is as messy, as purposeless as the inside
Overgrown hedges and wild flowers
But still this is my house and my home
Cold and without semblance but still where
I will always be welcome and always feel at home…