Homeless?

This is a poem that I wrote years ago when I was homeless in San Diego, CA. As much as I love home, I miss those days of being truly free.

 

What do you mean I'm homeless?

Now who could have told you that?

I have a great place to live,

And the beach is where it's at.

 

A little piece of property,

With a great big ocean view.

Beach as far as you can see

With seals and sea gulls too.

 

The park is just my playground.

Now who could ask for more?

Bonfire pits and palm trees

With bathrooms built for four.

 

The grass is always green here

With so many things to do.

Swimming, shopping and boating

Or relax where skies are blue.

 

No shoes or shirts required,

So, come however you may.

My door is always open.

The address is Mission Bay.

 

Homeless is just a word,

A stereotype that's wrong.

You're only homeless really

If you're not where you belong.

 

Home is what you make it

Because home is what you are.

Home is not a dwelling,

But a place within your heart.