This is Not My Home

This is not my home..
the laughter of a different child
where he shall grow up and want the same..
He will someday want to break away from these walls
and find the grass on the other side..
This is not my paradise..
I dream of the screaming to silence
and the yellow daisies to rise
where there will not be any beating on the doors
and a change in personality at any moment.

This is not where I want to be..
ten years from now
twenty
thirty.
This is not my home..
this is my past.