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(from Within My Illusions)

When I was a little girl
and I got hurt, my mother
tried to comfort me.

Held in her embrace,
tears veiled my face as I cried,
“I want to go home.”

Over and over and over again:
“I want to go home.”

“You are home,” she would say.
“We are at home.”

Over and over and over again:
“I want to go home.”