He was. Where is home?
No place I want to be.
It was never here.
He trashed our home
Like a rude guest
Who overstayed his welcome
By twenty years.
I never thought he'd leave.
He always yearned for a warmer place.
Our love made him shiver.
I think he'll feel right at home
In a place that's very hot
And without love.
Francis Santaquilani's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Called Home by Francis Santaquilani )
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