The March

We often find ourselves leaving where we have become so attached to

Feels like I'm marching to the noose

Heading towards the block

Letting all I have be cut loose

And unsealing the lock

One of comfort, joy, and stability

Yet on the move again

Away from the good company

When I'll be back? I don't know when

A feeling of dread

Pervades it all

Feels like I'm already dead

Up against the wall

I want to hear the call

The call to go back home

I don't hear it at all

Anywhere I roam

I still miss you friends

Oh I miss you so

when I feel I'm at an end

When I'm down so low