Where Is Home?

Our hearts romanticize the vagabond. To walk away from all that brings you down. It’s true we’re free to get up and be gone. In search of new horizons to be found. Always snipping at the ties that bind us And doing all you would just as you may. Worries can all just be left behind us. ‘Cause in the morn we simply walk away. Dodging all responsibilities now. There’s nothing holds you down or brings you back. Thinking and just doing as you please now. All you might need you carry in your pack. But this, my curse, my cross: to always roam… Cannot you feel my loss: O! Where is home?