Home is where...
By Parson Thru
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There’s a constant flow of people past the end of my street
Right beneath my window
Swifts chase bugs in the darkening channel of sky
Borrachos open their cans
Buses whine through the square, harassed by scooters
And I’m wondering how it’s going to feel
when the poles have flipped
When There becomes Here, and Here is There
The other place
The life that was
People will talk about home
“It’s good to have you home.”
“I bet you’re glad to be home.”
Tossing the subjective around like waste paper
Home: a place I love and hate
Home: a place I long for
Home: a place it breaks my heart to leave
It gets dark quickly here
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If you do back, it surely
If you do back, it surely will become a new place/life not the old place/life? You will have good memories to build on in a new place? and noticing the sad and the humourous, the tawdry and the beautiful in a different setting. I liked the noticing of those swifts chasing bugs above the noise and roughness of city life. Rhiannon
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However bad it is to leave
However bad it is to leave the place you love, you do it for the person you love. The place will always be there. Just like the swifts, something calls you to leave, but you will go back, just like the swifts. If you know you can make someone's life better by being with them, that is a huge gift, to you?
I hope this is not patronising, I wish I could be of some help to my Mum but I'm not. Nor was I to my Dad. If you are useful, be proud. It shows what a good person you are
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last 4 lines conclude your
last 4 lines conclude your poem pretty well. a good poem. Swep
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I've spent my whole life
I've spent my whole life trying to get home. Maybe it's a thing to do and not a place. I liked the constant flow of people at the beginning.Everyone on the move. Hope you are well.
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