Stuck on a boat that barely stays afloat. Lost in a sea where nobody can see me. I feel my body shrink, then I sink trough the kitchen sink. Now I am stuck and lost in this sewer. With no hopes of finding a rescuer. I am trying to find my way back home, but did ever really have a home? Is home where your house and car are or is it where your heart is? If it is later, then dying down here might be better. Because I never found a place for my heart, I am a softy in a world that is concrete hard. I try taking it but every second I come closer to breaking it. Are you truly alive if your objective is merely to survive? I am not standing here on the edge because I want to take my life, I stand here to see the same view as my wife. I feel the wind through my hair, as I travel through the air. As I open my eyes I stand at my funeral, nobody cries. Because nobody stands next to my coffin, no words are strong enough to soften, my heart, broken like a glass shard.