one must feel welcomed to stay somewhere
it's not enough to just be there feelings
often  matter when it comes to matters
of the heart no amount of stitching can
mend worn torn once fine quilted fabric
it's not enough pieces to make a  decent bed 
where one can fluff a few pillows and rest 
one head no amount of needles thread 
nor pin cushions can cushion the blows 
gone with the wind as she blows the tides
beside hollow stone old torn roadmaps
pieced together fail to aid ones way home      
 
      
 
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