Going Home Poem by Phil Ward

Going Home



The ticket lays on my bedside table,
My most recent gift,
For an unexpected journey,
And I got it all for free,
I hadn't planned it,
I didn't even want it,
But it was given to me so I accepted it.
The strange thing is the return section is missing.
Laying back in the quiet of my room,
I'm happy and smile,
That weight no more,
As I realise I'm going home.

Friday, December 12, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: dying
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