Uncommon Home

Sitting in his chair in his place in the day room
he was a man at home in his cellblock
a man of uncommon beauty – safe in uncommon home

He thanked the gods his whole life was home
nobody outside to worry about hurting – to worry about losing

What a hell he thought it would be
to be tied to the world outside
to worry about losing the world outside

Greasy they call him – Michael is his name
and Greasy told Michael’s story with uncommon beauty
simple beauty of nothing to hide

He showed us two pictures
one was wanting
one was home

The cold hard wanting
was leaving prison
to search for where he belonged

Desperate to do
what he needed to do
to feel good enough to belong

A cold truth lurked in his being
He felt it wherever he went
I am not good enough to belong

He ran and kept running
He needed to rest
He knew he could not go on

Then Michael found warmth in coldness
home in barren
safe from currents he could not endure

Greasy’s gratitude was simple
a place to belong
the nest of beings that make home home

Sitting in his chair in his place in the day room
a man of uncommon beauty
home in uncommon home

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