There is a place called home,
where there is no harm,
no tears do shed; upon the bed,
just a scene of calm,
lo’ cries and laughs; from broken screen,
gives weariness a name,
made by such a prideful noise,
and finger-points of blame, but
there is a place called home,
where there is no harm,
no tears do shed; upon the bed,
just a scene of calm,
yet technical invasions,
make eggshells to be trod,
frightening talking monkeys,
become the errored god, though
there is a place called home,
where there is no harm,
no tears do shed; upon the bed,
just a scene of calm,
then the sky comes falling,
explosive hail clangs,
seeing every soldier,
baring all their fangs, please
let there be a place called home,
where there is no harm,
allow no dread, make soil bed,
just a scene of calm, still
wholesome pleas are blanked,
by every bad decision,
an over-practiced state of hate,
creating all incision, why
destroy a place called home,
where there is no harm?
Keep smile fed, upon the bed,
just a scene of calm, lo’
they have to keep so busy,
patrolling every floor,
coz’ humans are their most alive,
providing all the gore, stay
away from this placed called home,
where there is no harm,
no tears should shed, upon the bed,
just a scene of calm, yet
cancer choice made woeful day,
bricks and mortar smothered,
to ensure that every hope,
became so dead and covered, thus
there was a place called home,
where there was no harm,
good words not said, just sleep in bed,
the final scene of calm!
-
Author:
AuburnScribbler (
Offline) - Published: June 16th, 2025 05:42
- Comment from author about the poem: Another long impromptu hiatus folks I know, but again, it has been a very hard time for me for sure. It is really hard to find a smile amidst the darkness, but at least I have a home, or do I, for long? With destruction and greed-ridden plans from the powers that be, the concept of "ownership", like our mortal constitution is temporary, as soon we will inevitably leave this place, but most of the times in the reign of warlords and fake gods, the creation of rubble is woefully too much of a repeat offence. We have this place, yet by our operation we choose to destroy it! Again makes me so ashamed to belong to such a species that celebrates such division and dissatisfaction. To say that there cannot be improvement in the way we act as a species, to me, is both lazy and cowardice! There can be a change, we just need to wake up, and work together! I hope that you enjoy the poem and please do stay safe in the madness everyone, as it truly is madness that we are living in now!
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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Comments4
So many the places called home yet home only resides within one not outside. A most lovely piece
Thanks for the read sorenbarrett, and yes, I do agree with you to a point, that home is a state of mind, but the bricks and mortal or whatever dwelling, should not be torn down by greed ridden stupidity, that always eradicates a central wholesomeness, that should be the basis of our existence.
Thanks for the lovely words, glad that you enjoyed reading, and I hope that all is well.
That is a lovely write, enjoyed the read
Thanks for the read, for the lovely comment and I am glad that you enjoyed this poem Poetic License.
I hope that all is well.
You are very welcome
BRAVO
Thank you Tony36, glad that you enjoyed the read and I hope that all is well.
You're welcome
Wonderful words Ben and so true in life today but at least we have a home and home is where the heart is.
Andy
Thanks for the read Andy, and like your comment, sorenbarrett comments above, says home is a state of mind, but I just wish humanity would stop measuring its pride all the time, and take the time to actually protect the things that really matter, such as a home, a family and life itself, rather than to rub shoulders with rubble, after such a devasting over repeated cancerous decision, from those who are supposed to help.
Thanks for your lovely words, and I hope that all is well.
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