Home

Home is supposedly

This tiny town

But home isn’t supposed to

Let you drown

What a realisation that the place that you grew up in

Is the place that is smothering you.

I am not meant to have my wings clipped.

Home is more than a building you reside in,

Home is where you feel you are your own person.

But my heart is back in with the Rising Sun,

where I don’t belong, where I did more than just haunt

the empty streets.

Home is a feeling, more than a person or the bricks around you.

 

I am renting this space, surrounded by home owners.

Back on home soil, I have a house but I am homeless.

 

K. Thwaites

 

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