Foundations

Sometimes I think I've lived too long,

Not yet gray, just a little worn,

Yet somehow these years and months feel wrong

Crippled, not by time, but by those I mourn.

Sometimes I think I've outstayed my welcome,

Hung my hat where it doesn't belong,

Dirtied the towels, and stolen some,

In a house that wasn't mine, all along.

Perhaps the people I've left behind

Will someday come back from their home

And take me to a house that's all mine --

Somewhere to stay and not just to roam.

The friends that I've lost, the family I've buried,

The opportunities passed and the roads I've not taken;

These are the memories that have got to be carried

Till I find a home where a foundation can't be shaken.