Forever is not as long as you think, and certainly not as short. And as I watch mankind abort their childhood dreams for abstract ideas of supporting tomorrows needs, I ask myself, "what is greed?". And no sooner than my lips collapse, I receive a text message reading, "Stay Home". But everywhere is my home! Which home are they speaking of? My spot near the the trees, where I climb up and see the sunset greet the chapel, as her bells ring for the hours end? Is it my sanctuary near the Amtrak station, where I meet an angel now and then? Is it near the coffee shop where I learned heartbreak with a lifelong friend? They must be more specific! This roof does not hold my soul. This plaster does not confine my mind. I've spent too long playing with words to let another's play with mine. Outside I go, I know the fine.