Home Is Where The Start Stopped.
you can never truly go home again
Home is Where What Started Stopped!
I have known
the solitude of one
in a world of sneers
and castrative glances,
and have longed
for the shelter of two
while in poverty's
grip I lay encamped
in an old car on a
backstreet's dark alley.
It was then that home
meant so much more
to me then simply
where I started.
it was an age of
innocence and awe
that can never be
recaptured and enjoyed
in the same way again.
But like an old record
I still play it again
and again in my mind,
savoring every
well worn groove.
This memory made me
want to go to my kitchen
and dial my old phone number
from back when I was a kid,
and hope that my mom..
long gone now, would answer
with that tinkle of love in her voice and
the giggles of 5 siblings
in the background.
Oh, that we could
call back in time
just to hear once again
those we have lost
to the dust of fate...
but it is late here where I sit
and whoever owns that
space of numbers now
must surely be dreaming