a poet's attempts at communication

home

home isn't one thing
and not everyone has a place
home could be a person
home could be a face

i watch as people leave it
i watch as they return
i close my eyes and wonder
when will i ever learn

i know it's not a house
i know it has no walls
my home is somewhere quiet
my home is somewhere far

i know i'll find her one day
that day, i'll hold her close
i'll look into my home's eyes
and tell she is my rose

one day, yes, i will find her
and we will start a place
with kids and pets and plenty of land
but it'll start with her and our days

to some, a home is a building
to some a memory
to others, a friend or lover
and to more, a family

i haven't found a home yet
but i know someday i will
i think it will be someone
and from that, peace will bring me still