I was homeless once.
By "once" I mean just 17 days
But I often think about those days and the many fields in which I stayed.
Almost every night I moved before it got light
Because the cops knew my face here and I knew theirs.
And they said, "Son, you can't be sleeping here."
When said and done I still feel homeless inside.
Things just haven't felt right since I can't remember,
And I don't understand quite why.
Life is heartache followed by sweet moments of regret.
And I am not sure which one of those this is yet.
Life is struggle followed by moments of missing home
And I don't mean the place we rest our heads
But the place we long for yet we never go.
Gotta keep smiling.
I don't mean "fake it 'til you make it" here.
I mean "Life really sucks sometimes and a smile helps me to remember."
If we could sell emotion I'd be the king of this whole earth
But what good is feeling symptoms if I don't fight to make them work.
Life is anger and I take it out upon myself
When I could use all of that energy to be helping someone else.
Life is heartless so I forget that I am not
But I'll do my best to imagine just what I'm capable of
If I used my heart and if I opened up.
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