Immigrants
I have been lived
in houses
but never
a home
I remember listening
to voices of mother,
when the first time
my mind tells me to wander
to ponder over things
around me,
"This is not our home"
I remember listening to
it everyday
So i never thought
of decorating the place
where i sleep, sit or play
and then i realized
we weren't living there
but surviving
so we left that house
in search of home
from place to place
from house to house,
They asked me once,
how it feels like
never finding
a home
ever...
"numb
shattered
lost"
I replied!
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
