Saturday, November 21, 2015

Home, that’s funny



Home, that’s funny

Where do you call home?
Is that the place you belong or own?
Is this world so narrow that belonging is an arrow?
Defined by language, culture, color or religion’s marrow?

I live far from where I was born
I live further from where my soul was formed
I live where I am but feel no belonging
I am separated by language, by culture, an ex-pat marriage longing

Three countries all into one with a mind schooled in Ayn
I believe in nothing, faith made me feel like an idiot aligned
I see this world where mysticism clashes with belief, equally not valid
Humanity alone, in the grip of itself, wandering like olives in salad

Does fear conglomerate humanity’s differences?
Suffocating, squeezing and triggering clashes?
“Let freedom ring” said the great MLK
They shot him dead for his words meant the end of humanity’s decay

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