Homesick, Without A Home

        Being miserably alone,
        though people are around
        can be more painful
        than being in solitary confinement.

        People live with me,
            only they dont understand.
        Even if they listen
        they still won't know.

        Their ignorance of
        a pain that can not be expressed.
        To them or anybody
        I tell not.

        Only God do I tell
        though he does not answer my prayer.
        I pray to be swept away from
        my lonesome room.

        Dark and musty this old house,
        not my home, just a manor.
        The lord of this castle
        are harsh and cruel.

        By day I slave,
        to comfort them further.
        Sometimes I am used as
        a punching bag.

        Night time falls,
        I rest my eyes not.
        For if they were to hear me cry
        I will stop immediately.

        They dont wake up
        from their restful slumber.
        Were they to find out
        the doctor would have me bed-ridden.

        Other servant girls
        speak to me no more.
        I dont care,
        they didnt listen to my pain.

        I have no home,
        so why am I homesick?
        Why am I so alone
        though people smother me?

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