Home, sweet home.
Every now and then I pay a visit
to that alluring abyss,
so difficult to leave behind.
The road there is straight and singular,
without speed limits.
Slow or fast,
the destination is inevitable.
At home I’m hit by a wave
of familiarity.
The familiar air
of despair.
About to head out,
I step through the front door;
but I can’t yet leave,
as I’ve forgotten my keys.
So I step back in
and take a seat for a minute;
tradition
to ward off misfortune.
Now to search for my keys,
nowhere to be found;
which I swear I had left
on my study desk;
I take my seat again,
this time to collect my thoughts;
but my thoughts are scattered
and my focus, shattered.
I can’t leave home;
but oh, how I need to,
for I’m late to be elsewhere.
Instead, I’m stuck in despair.
I mustn’t delay further,
though I know not where I’m going.
I leave the door wide open,
but one thing is for certain.
My home is safe and sound,
as no one wishes to enter
this abode, old and decrepit,
that I will soon revisit.
