I want to go home,
I will curl up and cry,
Finding myself buried in a tome,
The pages wet, tears fallen from the eye.

I want to go home,
I say that at home,
What does that mean?
Is something unseen?

Is home a place?
A time?
Somewhere in space?
A cloud of rime?

What does it mean?
To say, honey I’m home.
What factors are seen,
Are they nothing more than a roaming gnome?

I feel then, it’s lost for all time,
What it means to go home.
I sit here and cry as I rhyme,
There’s no place like…