I entered my home with indecision
Like a Palestinian in Palestine
A gypsy itching to dismantle his tent
A migrant fowl awaiting the season
Not a care for the hardships that await
You stare at your own blood
And see it pale into a dark hue
And wonder if it can be infused again
You inhale the scent of your home
Lids popping off bottles of scent
And you wonder if they’ll ever be yours
You read the lips of your dear ones
You read between their lines
You wonder if they speak the same tongue
Your hands run over fading graffiti
And recall your children scribble the wall
You wonder what goes on in their minds
A stranger in my own home!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very introspective poem written with deep feelings and emotions. Marks 10.Narayanan