Is A House A Home?

 

The horns are blaring,

I’m waiting for a cab;

it’s the same every day

after leaving the office.

Why are we rushing

back to an empty house?

Where can we find solace

when nobody’s sincere?

What am I missing?

What am I afraid of?

Waiting to cross the road,

I wonder what others think.

Who else is lonely?

Perhaps everyone is;

Yet we’re luckier that some

who don’t even have a home.

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