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“Homecoming” (A poem written in just over 10 minutes)

Homecoming. The sound of your home town drumming
The sound of your past rising up, and all the shunning
Is home where you come from?
Or is home where you go?
Is home where you’ve done someth’n?
Or is home what you know?
Is there a home for the homeless?
For the wandering minds?
For those who couldn’t care less?
And missed all the signs?
Is home where the heart is?
Or where the start ends?
Is home where the artist
Begs a thousand pardons?
Is home meant to be clean and controlled?
Build up her value as she’s bought and sold?
Or is home where you can be you?
No matter the costume you’re used to?
Maybe it’s a messy place
Where your whole self converges
An orgy of time and space
Where the timeless you emerges
Is home more of a feeling
Than anything tangible?
More of a way of dealing
With what’s not understandable?
Maybe it’s a safe house
Where you can shut the world out
Or maybe it’s where you pronounce
What your world’s all about

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