This is a new poem I wrote lately. Would love to read your comments about it. What does home mean to you?
Long time I was walking,
walking on a bumpy road.
Seeking for that place,
the place everyone’s talking about.
The place where I feel safe.
Where I feel at home.
I went by bus, by plane,
to saw places all over the world.
I travelled a lot,
because no one told me where that place is.
But where do people go to,
when they say they go home?
What is home?
And where is home?
Some say it’s where you grew up.
Some say it’s where your family lives.
Some say it’s just where you feel happy.
I want to feel happy,
and so I started walking.
Because I want to be happy,
I want to have a family, my family.
Some say that I’ll know it when I am home.
One day my searching was over.
When I met this guy,
and he showed it to me.
Home is not a place where you can go to,
it’s not under water, not in the sky,
it’s not a building.
You can go wherever you want,
and your home will be with you.
When you once found it,
and you are accepted,
that’s when you are at home.
Because home is where you feel happy,
where you feel safe.
And where can it be better
than in the heart of the one you love?