Going back home is the worst part

A escape room, a tall one

Very white, made of glass and porcelain

Don't know why escape is needed, don't know when it won't be needed anymore

/

And before I arrive

There are sounds and bright teeth

There's a mother sitting on the ground

And they are open, in spite of any fear

/

And on the road

Before reaching home

I could peacefully die there

On the road