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Home: A Poem

Lilly Saint

Home. Never have I ever had the luxury to call a place such a name.

Through countries and cities.

I search and I search

For nothing to come along

Never will this change

Forever I will be without a home.


The smell of boxes and a new house

I know all too well.

The smell of a moving van and the strange feeling I get with strangers in my room

It is painful to watch as my childhood is packed into boxes

Sometimes never to be seen again


What will I do when I am older?

Will I get a job? Have a white picket fence?

Or will I travel more?

Pick up where I left off

Continue my search

For the feeling I will never have

The feeling of a home

Absent for all eternity

Never will I ever have a place that I call home.

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