Longing for Home

I sit in a grease sweating Chinese take out box,

but some call it an airplane seat

we wait, all the planes in a line for takeoff like baby ducks following their mother.

I do not want to be here

I have been a nomad for the past month

I feel like my heart has already taken off and is waiting for me at home

I would rather be anywhere but here,

but mostly I’d rather be home.

To where the tension like cannon balls fall from your shoulders as soon as you walk through the door,

To where careless,cozy.comfy, days are spent

To where you can lie in your bed all day long and listen to a favorite song 

but alas, I am so far away 

I must make my patience last

though it shall be quite a tassk

- TheSoundofRain 

 Twitter: @ThatSoundofRain

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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