When you finally go back to your old home, you find it wasn't the old home you missed but your childhood.

When love was dropped and shattered

And my poor heart lost to me

I returned, bruised and battered

To where my home used to be

~

I found but shards and slivers

Of the child I used to be.

He whines and shits and shivers

And is of no use to me!

***

Quote citation: ~Sam Ewing

Yeah, I went all sicko. I also decided to try a new poetic form and came up with an odd one. It's an Irish form, called "Ae Freislighe". So, I says to me self, "I've got Irish blood in me veins, so..." Here's the structure, as I understand it:

Quatrain stanzas of 7 syllables per line.

The last 3 syllabyes of lines 1 and 3 rhyme. (xxa)

The last 2 sylllables of lines 2 and 4 rhyme. (xa)

The number of stanzas can apparently be anywhere from 1 to infinity.

I don't know how badly I've butchered it, but I'm sure my ancestors are rolling in their graves.

Here's the resource I found:

And here's a link to the Challenge (Thanks, JBaz):

Thanks for reading!