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Home Is Where The Start Stopped.

Updated on December 12, 2009

Home is where the start stopped!


I have known

the soulitude 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
with 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

in their bed as well
of a place they

cherished long ago
and should not dare to be

disturbed as much as I am

in the wee hours

when I am no longer wee.



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