Homeland
What’s a homeland, I don’t know
Sounds a bit too much symbolic
I’ve got no land of my own
So it turns out hyperbolic
This home concept is not real
Could be my imagination
Sort of melancholy feel
Hardly a concrete location
Not the property I own
Not a shelter from the rain
Not a place where I was born
But a picture that remains
They say home is where the heart is
And my heart is over there
Far away, where willow trees
Softly rustle in damp air.
Copyright © Gregory Colodub | Year Posted 2024
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