Home
The sound of a key in a rusty lock
Bright clothes strewn cheerfully over the floor
Lying on your bed, a lonely sock
The feel of bathroom tiles on your bare feet
Your home is nothing as hollow as doors
Not as artificial as paint or brick
But the place that’s yours
The place that you miss when you’ve gone away
You can never buy a home with wealth
They say that home finds you
Where you go to gather your courage and health
Only a heart can find a home
Don’t ask me about the lonely people who
wander under the sky’s empty dome. Alone.
Because all I’ve ever known is home.

