Paying guest

Far away from home

I am here under the roof of somebody else’s home,

With a clean soft bed and a pretty balcony 

But sure it doesn’t feel like home. 

The framed photos gawk at me

As I stare into their still eyes;

I touch the plain surface to feel their warmth –

But nothing,

Nothing except the feel of ice.
Painted walls and marbled floors

Was all I had as the idea of home. 

A packed refrigerator and clean bed sheets 

Fresh flowers and burning scented sticks.

 

Far away from home

Here under the roof of somebody else’s home,

I have all the sky I need for my flight, 

No-one near to question my life. 

But maybe deep inside that bothers me,

For that mayhem I lived with,

I never knew how comforting those memories would sound to me. 

Mama’s unbridled laughter and papa’s hearty smile…

Those strangely calm days and stormy malicious nights. 

Now face time and phone calls are 

The only balm to my restless soul,

Far away from home…

Far away from their succoring hold. 

15 thoughts on “Paying guest

  1. Loved your poem…There is no sweeter place than own home…I’m staying as a paying guest too, though only for a short while…I kinda miss home at times, but I somehow love living all alone in a single room..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Most of my writings are not imaginary. I write what I feel.
      And for the record I just moved to another city for my higher education. And that’s why this poem.
      πŸ™‚πŸ™‚πŸ™‚πŸ™‚πŸ™‚πŸ™‚πŸ˜‡
      BTW, thank you for reading.

      Like

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