Home

is not the physical embodiment
you co-habit with people
who will end up, every one,
leaving you at one point or another, but
where you love
where you feel
where you can be yourself

where life happens
in your instinctive world,
the wider world ignores
or your distracted and irresolute selves
have trouble holding on.
It's at odds with ambition and achievements,
being as it is a replica

of your original habitat ,no matter
if imperfect ,still is a haven
from the chaos outside.
It's where you grow up
wanting to leave and grow old,
wanting to come back, so nostalgic
is it ,to die at home ,at last.




Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Read 55 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2021-01-28 at 08:49

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email
dott Print text


Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
Your poem has been chosen to be featured on the home page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting on our poetry website!
2021-02-08


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo I am with Jo on your work
Ken D
2021-01-28


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Beautifully conceived and executed. Bravo. I completely agree with your theme and path!
2021-01-28