Home

the tv is on
its always on
but the couches
they’re empty
constantly empty
and I lay in bed
watch the sun rise
and set
I’m still in bed
and the couches
they’re still empty
I walk through the house
my home as its called
walk through my life
the daily motions
stare out the windows
down the streets
they’re all empty
like a ghost in a haunted building
my presence is mere chills down a spine
or a creak of the wooden floors
the lights they turn on at night
and off in the morning
but the couches are still empty
and the tv is still on
the only sign of life
in this place I call home