Broken home

 They chose to paint the walls blue,

As blue was my favourite colour.

But little did they know

How much I loved the sky.

10 years old kid back then 

I was busy finding a home 

A little perfect place to hide 

Right there at the corner of my room .

I dreamt of a house ,

A big house with lot of windows

To let things go

which I've burried deep within me.

I dreamt of a home ,

Where walls are too strong to be broken

Where relations would never fall apart.

There'll be a board with sweet little name

it'll be made of love , out of argument and reasons to blame.

They still tried and tried every year

To make it beautiful , to make it own.

But all I see about this place

Feels like a old broken home .

~Disha