by Omi Salavea

a tired face
a homeless soul
aboard an endless journey
abreast a struggle with the self
sit back and smile
"They" say,
Despite the bumpy turns.

the highways of many cities
the low-roads of vast cornfield expanses
the arms of many women
the arms of countless men
the hearths of strange lands
the haunts of familiar territory.

Where rests home?

Are you home?
Are you what i've been searching after, searching for, longing for?


Author's Note: Even when you don't want to think about something, you end up thinking about it.

Posted on 07/25/2005
Copyright © 2019 Omi Salavea

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