Home is Where We Sit

The family I keep building, seem to fall away.
so home is where I sit.
The family I have is far away.
so home is where i sit.
I laugh with you, and find In you
Eyes, and hope and care
and as we dine on unexpected dinner number 32
home is where we sit
and as we laugh in a broken bar
of broken dreams and broken moments
home is where we sit,
So friend, tell me, if I do not call,
Do you know I still love you?
And if we do not speak for weeks, or months, or sadly even years
Does it do nothing more than tell us of our age?
And as I board yet another plane
To meet another mix of faces
Faces to love hope and dream with
Faces to care of things That Might Change
I'll say hello, and then goodbye
To yet another once-home
And then to be back again
But here could be almost anywhere,
For home, is where I sit.

Reviews

[Sethnicity]

beautifully written.. and what discrete description. the somberness that trickles through this poem like a distant fog horn blown through morning mist it says I'm still here even though I'm there and yet still out of reach. Yet a pone second reading it chimes off very morose, matter-of-fact, and very much emotive of how I feel often. this poem could be spoken and understood the world over which makes it powerful... after reading it's like peroxide on an open wound I can feel the burning and the fizzle and the cool chill as the wounds become sterile... :/
Favorite verse:
"So friend, tell me, if I do not call,
Do you know I still love you?
And if we do not speak for weeks, or months, or sadly even years
Does it do nothing more than tell us of our age?"

Heartbreaking truth. UUUhh how I want my blanket and tea right about now.