It’s like I’m runnin away from my past in this desert!
I’m runnin from each place to another one, but since I’ve had been there long enough I could consider it as my past. So I have to run to new one, till it again becomes my past, then I have to run again.
Till I’m runnin away from my past, from place to place, I can’t ever call a place home!
What are the essences of a place to be called home? It protects you from outside forces, storm & thunder, but it keeps u inside too. You won’t be free anymore.
If I become homeless, then I’ll be free. Then I can go anywhere I want. Then I can run again from my past.
I’ve got no place to call home. I have left the past behind!
