you were my shelter

the poor place where I felt safe

and warm, somehow at home,

some arms around my body,

some friendly words,

some carring human being thoughts,

some smiles, some forehead kisses.

Somewhere I always ran away.

Sometimes I missed all these.

You were my shelter I was used

to return to with broken bones.

Nobody could ever fix and

I only layed, waiting year after year

my own kind of heals.

You were my shelter, my prison, my tomb,

waiting year after year to escape from.

And the day I will arise and shine again,

leaving all known behind,

is almost tomorrow.

Be never sure of a final return,

dear shelter, my prison, my tomb.