“Where is your home? Where are you from?”
I can tell my current address, but is it home?
I can tell where I lived, names of numerous cities

With my father serving in the army
Our location changed every 6 months

We lived in thirty-eight cities in my nineteen years
The only common link was the army parade and practice

I also enrolled in the army and got selected
I was taught how to move stealthily, within a second
I was ingrained with love for my nation and sacrifice

The training did not include settling in and forming roots
It taught survival and the art to keep quiet, if captured

Today, I met a girl of my dreams and hoped for a future
Her eyes held a thousand questions, seeking security

She asked “Where is your home? Where are you from?”
The only answer that echoes in my mind and I hope it resonates
“My home is my country, every grain of soil holds my roots”

Note: I am taking the liberty to extend the topic of homelessness a bit further