Whispers of Struggle

You’ll miss home when you’re all alone,
And no one’s around to pick up the phone.
You’ll miss the smell of dinner at night,
And the way your room just always felt right.

You’ll miss the couch where you used to lay,
Fighting for the remote at the end of the day.
You’ll miss the nights when your mom tucked you in,
And told you stories with a gentle grin.

You’ll miss the sound of your siblings’ noise,
The teasing, the laughter, the fights over toys.
And when you’ve moved out, gone your separate ways,
It’ll never quite be like it was in those days.