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Home. MAG
May 9, 2011
I sit inside my room and I
look up at the ceiling but I
can't see the home that I'm living in.
And though I
sometimes feel lost and I
tremble in the frost, I
somehow find warmth in the
words being written.
See I
learned long ago that we
don't always know how to
live in the homes
we've been given.
And like the swallow outside my window, I
watched her build her nest, and I
realized that we don't live in homes,
but we build them.
Brick by brick,
day by day,
'til there's somewhere we can go,
© Crystal F., Marshfield, MA
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JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 6 comments.
alaskanman BRONZE said...
on Nov. 20 2011 at 6:33 pm
If it wasn't finished when you uploaded it, then what is the last line of it?
alaskanman BRONZE said...
on Nov. 20 2011 at 6:31 pm
I really like this poem and i would have to agree that you do build your house metaphorically for some, but also quite literally for others.
LifeIsPoetry PLATINUM said...
on Oct. 29 2011 at 1:37 pm
Oops this was supposed to be included in the comment but I like the message the poem conveyed too!
LifeIsPoetry PLATINUM said...
on Oct. 29 2011 at 1:36 pm
Creative, ending a majority of the lines in 'I.' Great job expressing your thoughts and feelings.
Mario Pajaj GOLD said...
on Oct. 19 2011 at 2:53 pm
It's funny cause I uploaded it unfinished, the last line of the poem isn't included.
