Below is a short poem I wrote last night. It reflects my struggle in adjusting to life here in London after being away so long. A reflection of my homecoming.
What is "home"?
Presently, home is a house, like all others. A structured shelter, devoid of meaning and soul unless those I love most enter and dwell within.
And that...is not happening.
***
Tears
Tears flow gently
warm against my skin
sudden and intensely
tears from deep within
Tears flow gently
as messengers of doom
proclaiming intently
my self-imposed gloom
Tears are still flowing
Details are washed away
but memories remain sowing
tears for another day
***
And as each day passes, the more I question the wisdom of my decision.
:(
They say life is a marathon and not a sprint...so hopefully things become clearer with time.
ReplyDeleteI believe it will - it always does. I am an optimist by nature although it may not see at times :)
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