There is somewhere a little home that's expecting me to enter it's door.
The roof has the color of a slow wind.
The fence is made of thornless flowers.
The garden is a big sea of butterflies.
Inside smells like love, and the bed has never been touched.
The walls can embrace me, caressing my soul.
There are two chairs in the kitchen, waiting for the love of two peoplw to float over the little table.
The third, the little one, is missing a half.
I cannot find the pieces.
I lost my way in the woods looking for them.
I cannot return without the missing half.
It's the half that can show me the way to the happiness inside that home.
It's not my home anymore.
And never will be...