Poetry of Home


Where I curl up on my bed in my comfiest clothes, book in hand and complete peace of mind.
When I listen to music I want and nobody disturbs me.
Where I lay my head, where hopes rest, where the fridge is.

Home is a place where there is a life full of love.
Heart of mum's eternal love.
Comfort and warmth of family.

The road is my home, I feel more at home whiles traveling with a good book in my hands.
Where I'd like to return to at the end of a day full of adventures.
Where I can hide from assholes, where the heart resides
Where the user documents are stored.
Where my clothes live,  just 4 walls.
Where I can be myself, wherever I'm just me.

A place that I belong, the birth and death will pass through but home is full of different stories. 
A place where I comfortably sit and have my coffee and croissant. 
A place I go to remember who I am when you have lost myself.
Home is a place of return, when I leave it I miss it.

Whenever someone is still thinking of you, that place is your home.

It's a goal, a feeling of being found. 
I can be myself without the fear of being judged.
I am accepted, especially in my worn out pajamas.
I am, where I feel the very center of my life.

Somewhere, someone or something that makes me feel nostalgic about our earth on earth.





Previous articles on home:

Childhood Memories: What my very first memories of home looked like: READ MORE

In Search of a New Home: From the Bali backpacking archives - in GERMAN: READ MORE

2 Years in London: ... and counting: READ MORE


What is home for you?


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  1. Simply beautiful! I love your lyrical words and find that poetry is often harder to write than long form.

  2. Hi, what a lovely poem that is no doubt relatable to many. Listening to my own music and curling up in comfy clothes is what I relate to the most.

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