There is nothing more disheartening
than to be a stranger in one's own house,
Talking to people
Talking to walls,
Waiting for someone
Waiting for calls.
Wishing for someone
to listen to words,
Waiting and longing
only to be heard.
Not that everything
needs a reply,
Just wishing that someone
would give it a try.
Two different people
trying to blend into one,
But only by one
will it ever be done.
Differences of opinion
differences of view,
Constantly compromising
is what I always seem to do.
Living with one
but wishing for more,
The fussing, the fighting
one walks away sore.
Sitting in the house
Sitting at home,
Like a caged up tiger
I need space to roam.
Pent up rage
pent up anger,
Not really sure
what is the real danger.
Confused and depressed
desensitized I feel,
Doesn't seem to matter to anyone
But to me its a great deal.
I did it to myself,
I fostered this way of life
I have to make changes now
Or continue with this strife.