HOME | DD

Description
We are the ones who are forgotten. Left behind by circumstance, chance, or nessesity. And for whatever reason, we were never reclaimed. We don't know why we're here, simply that we are. That in itself is not abnormal, as no one knows exactly why or how they came to live on this planet. But most people do not care to know. We care. We do not all come from the same place. We are strangers. But all of us wish, somewhere deep within, somewhere secret, that we might go home. Not home to Mommy and Daddy. HOME. It is one of the few words in our languages that we understand and recognize and feel. But we don't feel it as others do. We feel it as an awareness, always knowing that it exists, but never within our reach. Love is another of those words.

Why won't anyone help us? No one knows we are here, and that is why. We are invisible. You can see us plain as day, but you cannot SEE us. Just as we cannot see ourselves. We are lost in unfamiliar bodies in an unfamiliar world. Perhaps we are 'aliens'. Perhaps we are so much more. Sometimes we get a feeling, barely tangible. A feeling that one of our own is near. It is bliss. But they pass us by quicker than we can relish the feeling. Some of us forget the feeling, and slip into the routine life of this world. Some cling to the feeling, and never let go. We have never truly fit in. It does not bother us. Perhaps we are the last of our kind. That may be why we are not rescued from this hell of a world. Are we here, maybe, to ensure that our kinds do not die out? Is our purpose to simply pass the baton of DNA down to the next generation? I don't think so. None of us do. We are here with purpose, waiting patiently, or not so patient, for it to be revealed. Some of us search. But if we all search, it becomes that much harder to find one another.

Maybe tomorrow, I won't be here anymore. Vanished without a trace, or dead from the pain of not knowing. The sun will rise anyway. Until the day that I no longer see the sun rise or set, I will wait and cling. I will beg for the feeling of sheer bliss that on occassion floats by. And then passes me by as if to say 'Another day'. I will wait forever. I will search until the blood runs from my veins and I am nothing but bones. And forever more, my soul will go on.

Description
We are the ones who are forgotten. Left behind by circumstance, chance, or nessesity. And for whatever reason, we were never reclaimed. We don't know why we're here, simply that we are. That in itself is not abnormal, as no one knows exactly why or how they came to live on this planet. But most people do not care to know. We care. We do not all come from the same place. We are strangers. But all of us wish, somewhere deep within, somewhere secret, that we might go home. Not home to Mommy and Daddy. HOME. It is one of the few words in our languages that we understand and recognize and feel. But we don't feel it as others do. We feel it as an awareness, always knowing that it exists, but never within our reach. Love is another of those words.

Why won't anyone help us? No one knows we are here, and that is why. We are invisible. You can see us plain as day, but you cannot SEE us. Just as we cannot see ourselves. We are lost in unfamiliar bodies in an unfamiliar world. Perhaps we are 'aliens'. Perhaps we are so much more. Sometimes we get a feeling, barely tangible. A feeling that one of our own is near. It is bliss. But they pass us by quicker than we can relish the feeling. Some of us forget the feeling, and slip into the routine life of this world. Some cling to the feeling, and never let go. We have never truly fit in. It does not bother us. Perhaps we are the last of our kind. That may be why we are not rescued from this hell of a world. Are we here, maybe, to ensure that our kinds do not die out? Is our purpose to simply pass the baton of DNA down to the next generation? I don't think so. None of us do. We are here with purpose, waiting patiently, or not so patient, for it to be revealed. Some of us search. But if we all search, it becomes that much harder to find one another.

Maybe tomorrow, I won't be here anymore. Vanished without a trace, or dead from the pain of not knowing. The sun will rise anyway. Until the day that I no longer see the sun rise or set, I will wait and cling. I will beg for the feeling of sheer bliss that on occassion floats by. And then passes me by as if to say 'Another day'. I will wait forever. I will search until the blood runs from my veins and I am nothing but bones. And forever more, my soul will go on.