At some point
I stopped being angry
and it became home again.
All of a sudden
I was grateful for my memories.
I almost cried in relief
to be peaceful again
self assured and open to loving.
My home that was never taken
by strangers and lovers
who do not belong where I belong.
I grew here somehow,
when I wanted to run away.
Out of nowhere, I could only stay.
The frost feels like a welcome mat
and the quiet stillness
on a Sunday morning revives me,
after a week of lights and noise
cars, clubs and careless boys.
I'm forever away and nothing
can hurt me here.
Home. Home. Home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem