I wrote this about an old church I used to years ago. Everything was changing and the home I called that church for my childhood and adolescent years became a strange building.
That home turned into a building.
Old Building, Where Is Home?
I thought when I walked into this building
That I could call it home
I thought it was away
Away from the sickness of this world
I thought when I found shelter in this building
That it would welcome me, all of the time
Time has proved me wrong
As the seasons change
This building has turned bitter
As it seems, only to me
Where is my coat?
Have you taken it?
Where are my shoes?
Have you stolen them?
I hope to guard my heart
Before it is stolen as well
Thank you
Zac
ZinnWrites 