A House Divided

I have two homes

the home where I reside

and the home, so far away

it's a sickness I can't hide

I have a home my heart died in

And a home that makes me cry

Neither is an easy choice, but

in one I want to die.

My home where I was born

hangs on hard to my heart

Most days I wish I'd never left

for all the pain it starts

The home that I live in

is sometimes painful to my core

but I hang on cause "I love him."

even, even if I'm not sure anymore

Now when I go to the home of my heart

I see far to0 many loved ones passed on

I visit graves instead of people

and my tears fall on the lawn

I wonder why I'm not worth it

What a sacrifice I have made

And all that he can say is

"If you want, you should have stayed."

Those in my Western family

say "You're Albertan now, move on!"

But I think, no, I know

the Nova Scotianer will never be gone.

Sometimes, I think I've got Stockholm Syndrome

Why? Am I so scared to move alone?

I tell myself, it's age and money

and my two dogs, or else I would be gone

Some in N.S. say "Just pack a bag and come."

But I've no place to stay now because

Of angry, hurtful, and lonely things I've done.

They don't understand here how

someone could love a place

Yet most have never seen

My roots are so deep, they interlace.

It's hurtful to live in a house divided

I feel so much, so much like a pawn

But I know I won't be happy

Till my last day starts with a Nova Scotia dawn.