Get Your Premium Membership

Home is a faraway place

Staring out of a flapping tent door, sunset is hidden behind the hills. Cuddled up in a flimsy sleeping bag, I dream of a warm bed. Morning breaks- craving hot tea, watching my breath mist up in the mute cold of dawn, longing for the whistle of a kettle. Home is more than mattresses and pillows but a haven, where regardless of how wrecked we are, the door will always be open. Home is where we feel safe. Some spend lifetimes searching Some walk away without a glance. Others sleep under a makeshift roof falling asleep to the sound of dripping water. Many wish they had one, Somewhere to be themselves ...

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry