Home Has No Adjective Before It Poem by Purbesh Mahapatra

In my life I have seen two kinds of many people
Those who have home and all other types of people

What pain and joy it brings to the heart
To think of a past home or
Seeing homes on the path of time
Lovely and radiant and filled in noises

Pity I do not have a home
A place to call my own
I stay in rooms and move often
Silence stays with me in my home
And when I venture outside
It always clings to me that I
Have a sad face that I
Do not have a home of my own

When noises and light fill up homes around me
I get soaked in guilt and loneliness
That cringes my heart
And asks humiliating questions at my soul