[Hour Twenty-Four]Good morning, good night

Home is a person, a place, a feeling.

A long trek back to the warm,

the familiar, the strong.

One day I’ll come home to arms

to hold, a voice to embrace.

And just once, just once I crave

the boring, the basic and simple.

Honey, I’m home, I’m home.

But until then it’s notes,

the last goodnight

and the first good morning,

a temporary stay until I’m that much closer

to where I belong.

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