When We Come Home Poem by Martins Akhoeneto

Let home be home, where love outlives the pain,
Where mercy finds the heart and heals again;
Let yesterday release its wounded hold,
And let our house keep what the years made gold.

We are the children your two hearts have raised,
The living harvest of the love you made;
Do not let wounds divide the blood we share,
Or turn the home we love to one of despair.

Mum, let the embers of old anger die,
Dad, reach for her beneath the same sky;
For time moves on and will not turn around,
And wounds left unattended deepen underground.

We ask no wealth, no monument, no fame
Only a home still worthy of its name;
So when our weary feet return once more,
Let home be home, as it was home before.