Home Poem by Biff McGuire

I have never been a man of the world
Nor have I ever intended to be
I’ve not traveled to the ends of the earth
So much is left for my eyes to see

Throughout my life, my jaunts have been short
But I gather them in and store it all
My mind and my eyes are a camera of sort
That captures the scenes as its shutter falls

And all of the people in all of the places
With keen senses, observed as I roam
They have a real spot in my heart as it chases
That feeling that’s only found home

Wanting to go back and wanting to be there
In a place where a friend can be found
Is the reason I still end up going back where
Home is a feeling and silence, a sound