(I swear they think they know me.) I am homeless. Not quite, perhaps, by physicality But by spirituality. There is not but one almight home that is for me. However, I am held back by the trial called life. Which every human being has to see To test their soul and morality for wrong or right. I am a prisoner within my own dome you see and imprisonment makes a free place to sleep a necessity. But the only thing that imprisons me is weakness itself. I am not quite sure if I am myself. Tears are brought forth From a pain that is unseen As if someone has cut me. Unknowingly They cut some appendage that I need to breathe Obviously For I am very weak. I have no physical thing to believe in In reason, a person should know Whats real and whats not. I, my friend, do not. I don't trust anything thats in front of me Because anything can be taken away quite easily. I am weak. There is nothing I know that can protect me. No physical being can help me. Only the Lord's grace can save me. I am homeless. Please give me a place to sleep. Every person that we meet Is given to us either for Positivity or negativity. Everyone I see influences me Yet what we don't realize Is how it is to see through others eyes. We only think of ourselves A natural selfishness Just like the tenderness Of our childhood cries for attention. Yet no one ever stops to mention That every person goes through The same trials with different names, faces, and places. I feel time on Earth is wasted. If this is not realized This paradoxical continuum shall see the eyes of all of our children and one day will be their demise. It is this Which will make the world end. One day "life" and "death" will be synonyms. Which, naturally No one wants to believe. We all come into the world with Our slate clean. But it fills up so quickly that only white can be seen. Until, fatally One does not know what to erase. And one realizes just how much of a waste of space There has been throughout their life. Until one can prove to a child "what happened to me shall also happen to you." Each one will leave with a useless downfall. And the paradoxical continuum will become death to us all.