No Home, No Rose
Things we think are simple do matter
To mother, daughter, son or father.
Home is such we get this way.
It’s where we’re born and hope to stay
To live in peace and reproduce
To build our ties and introduce
Great things we put to daily use.
As time goes by and things do change
And life at home becomes so strange
Or home itself becomes unsafe,
We either die for lack of peace
Or go somewhere we hope is safe.
How hard it is to find this place!
How long it takes to end this race!
How fake it is to chase rainbows!
When home is gone, we smell no rose.
25/03/2022
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