And Pain Becomes a Place

( a Quatern )


And pain becomes a place to call your own
Where company is unapproachable.
To make it like your heart is made of stone,
Enrobed in sackcloth and invisible.

The longer Time pretends to have a say
And pain becomes a place to call your own,
You start to wonder why you even stay;
Unfortunate, your ghost is right at home.

You feel your chances for a life have flown,
You try to run but you can’t hide for long.
And pain becomes a place to call your own
Where all your worth is sold off for a song.

When death is but a number on a screen
And all along, you’re no one, home alone,
It’s day & night when hopes are never seen,
And pain becomes a place to call your own.