Often confusing

Home

The rapid thrum of city streets,
It's neon thrums and lilac beats.
A gray sky to set up the scene,
As we grow and flit our wings.
Home? They ask,
What's home, I ask.
This word so common,
But a mask.
Of all the things I have not seen,
What does it mean, what does it mean.
Where's my home, in this city,
It's back when skies were brighter blue.
And now they scream I have to go,
For we do not belong.
And they fear we are not too long,
For we live in times gone past.
Looking for these homes of ours,
Crumbling foundations and pillars.
Travel back in time we can't,
And so we locked them in our past,
Our homes.