Guest

The curtains are a strange color

I've never seen before

And my legs catch weird corners

As I shuffle across the floor

The patterns are peculiar

And the decor is in poor taste

It's odd to see such beauty

draped in someone else's waste

The bones of the building

are the best I've ever seen

And I know that I want to live

in this beautiful thing

It's everything of home

that I have always wanted

But the souls of those before

keep this house haunted

Though the For Sale sign

is still stabbed into the dirt,

someone else's memory

still roams these halls of hurt

I can change the carpet

And give this house my best

But it won't change the truth that

I'll always be a guest

So I'm forced to admit

what I guess I've always known

That the heart of the man of my dreams

Is someone else's home