Rayan Ali (22 June-1996 / Murree-Pakistan)
A Place Like Home
Wondering in the lonely streets
Speaking in the strange crowd
Roaming in the empty spaces
Watching and hearing the world
As it moves-on in the rush
Remembering the times when
One rested in the warmth
Of the peaceful surroundings
And living together under
One roof and behind four walls.
But outside of those four walls
It feels like being crushed
Between the walls of loneliness
And being soaked in the rain
Outside that one roof.
Searching for a place to lie down
With a heavy heart that
No longer feels anything
And looking hard into other’s eyes
To recognize if they are our own.
But whatever we do
Or wherever we go
Whatever we say
Or whatever we ask
A place like home
We will never find.
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