There is no place like home.
There is no place I call home.
There are places I come from,
there are places I’ve been to,
there are places I’m going.
There is a space I’m using,
a place that’s mine for occupancy,
but is it home?
I no longer belong where I came from,
(I think I never did)
I am not yet where am I going,
and I am only temporarily passing
through the space that I’m using.
There might be a place
that is like home, but how
would I know, if I don’t
have a home to compare it to?

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