Home is where the heart is,
or at least that's what they say.
It harbours all our loves and joys
that find us every day,
but home is also where the pain is,
where ambition ends;
Where are grandest dreams are swept aside
time and time again.
Home is home to guilty boredom,
that we cannot touch,
for how could we forsake a place
that's given us so much?
Home is not a place we settle,
that we keep and trust.
In fact, you'll find that home's a place
that, more so, settles us.
(07/20/09)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem