This isn't at all <br />how i pictured it to be <br />Drawing and paint have and are <br />Still withering away <br /> <br />Where I stand <br />Is where I was <br />Only a few years ago <br /> <br />It looked so much happier <br />And peaceful then <br />But now <br /> <br />Nothing is how I remembered it to be <br />They say it is supposed to be <br />The most comforting place <br />In the world <br /> <br />But, this is not <br />My real home <br />As it was <br />Once before<br /><br />Louise Batt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/home-159/
