In a car that feels familiar yet so foreign,
Crossing roads that were crossed before,
Feeling so foreign.
In a car whose smell never stays the same,
Crossing roads that refuse to lead astray.
A destination I go to between a point or two,
Shall the travel be limited to these familiar views?
A destination I travel to, between a point or two,
Has the world truly shrunk to these familiar views...?
The air carries a distasteful weight—
Is it the car that never stays the same,
Or the load I hold so dearly to?
In a car I hesitate to enter,
Heading to a place where I might finally let go.
Crossing the roads that lead to where I belong,
Gripping what defines me so tightly it might flee.
Yet still, the world feels smaller, so
In these familiar views, perhaps the chase wouldn't last so long.
And then that rises the question, is it the car that's foreign
Or the bag I cling so dearly to?
In the car whose smell never finds familiarity,
Is it my own bitterness that strays,
Or the journey to a place
Where my lungs wouldn't stop mid-way
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A Place to belong (poem)
PoetryThis poem explores the emotional and physical journey of moving between two houses in search of a sense of belonging. It delves into the paradox of seeking familiarity in places that ultimately feel alien, reflecting the mental strain and futility o...
