these four walls

four walls, so tall
so plain and usual
they used to be my home
whether white or blue or lavender of old
they always did contain me
my stuff inside
my body too,
it's where I laid my head
my life inside four solid walls
just another normal bed

but no more now,
not these four walls
though inside them I still dwell;
I'm living in a new home now
outside the walls which surround.

my love is in a small small town
in a land known for its red
rocks named by natives long ago,
that's where I rest my head.

my heart is the story books
placed up upon my shelves
though happily I visit those
which yet have proper selves.

my spirit soars from place to place
searching for the white
I never stop for anything
unless it feels just right

my body sits
on this old bed
many others it has supported
but me? not here, not now, not ever
have I lived where I reported

my eyes they travel on the lake
or to the shining lights
or shoot off into the endless space
in a moment, they just might

my fingers live around a pen
and resting on some paper
though I can say they'd rather be
wrapped around another's

my dreams reside in distant lands
where skies are often gray
with wind and water and people strange
I spend my drifting day

my feet they live in running shoes
or in those brand new heels
all they really care to know
is how going somewhere feels

my ears float off to wandering heights
melodies all my own
borrowed or created new
its on music notes they're home

my mind sits in a classroom
for people new and old and so
who sprinkle knowledge in the air,
for me, waiting, to collect it there

my soul it thrives in passion
in sights and sounds robust
it matters not where I find it
but to survive I must

these four walls
its where I am
and where I'm forever not
but these four walls
to call my own,
they're really all I've got
these four walls
right here and now,
might be where you find me
but listen close and don't forget
these walls do not contain me