Home

I live in a beautiful village next to the ocean,

yet seven seas away from home.

Home now is just a room with four walls,

filled with people but no affectionate calls.

It now defines the sides,

room being personal space and the rest being outside.

This home is a house with everything,

yet does not give you the mood to do anything.

The transition to house from home,

realises that I'm not a kid anymore.

reminding me of good old days,

where staying in home was a family holidays.

Reality stricks back and makes me sad,

but the window of my room sparks some faith.

The moving cars asks me to move on,

changing sky makes me believe that change is possible.

Tiny waves hitting the window calms my chaos,

moving leaves cheer me up.

Noises around asks me to party with the nature disco,

and of course the dog park calls on to shout the pain.

The conflicting tears from my eyes,

happy for good things and time, or missing home?

But from past to presnt and future,

I reside with a hpe of house turning to home again.