Homeless

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It's a home
whose peaceful aura
rivals the heavens above.

It's a home
that resides
a familial father,
a maternal mother,
& a supportive sister.

It's a home
that welcomes me,
includes me,
& loves me.

It's not my home.
It's hers

He's not my father.
She's not my mother.
She's not my sister.

I don't have a home.

I need to remember that.

Poems of a Neurotic InsomniacWhere stories live. Discover now