Hearthless

I’m a little too everything else
To be anything at all.
In the distant hills of my soul,
I kept hearing a cricket call
To come home again
To dirt and bugs and grass,
To the weather inside,
And time fit to pass.
It got so dang loud
I dropped just about everything
To try to find my home
In the meadow where the crickets sing

But only the crickets
Remember me.
Now I’m just a little
Too much of everything.