I know I belong here but I'd still say
I don't for I know things don't last forever with me.
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Each time you find my name
a home in your sentences
between the universally special words
like love and sorry
i feel though i were an outcaste in
a system of society i can't fit in
but I know i belong here
in between pages you scribble
but I'll still say i don't belong here
for i know things don't last with me
not even my own family
i was brought up from
i wouldn't know who or what to point at
when they ask of
blood or belongings.
