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The crowd starts to disperse into the night and everyone goes home. My feet take me to the street, everyone is sleeping soundly, and I am searching for my home. Light years have passed me by but everything else has come to stand. I look at every face in front of me, on the streets, in their homes, from the window, smiling. I think of everyone around me, who have something to live for or something to live by. Something or someone they're waiting for. And me I am searching for my home.... and then, I think that maybe someone would think of me and smile, that maybe I might be a part of someone's life.
The street gets cold and I pull the zipper of my sweater up., put my arms together and look at the boy sleeping on the pavement, sleeping the way he should be sleeping, soundly. If, I could have a piece of it, just for an hour I would give him the rest of my life. He has a home on the street, a place to live; the whole world belongs to him. And as for me, I'm still searching for my home, and the world does not belong to me, it belongs to the child sleeping on the streets.
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serenity
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Comments
What Sense? xxx | Nov 30th, 2003
Maybe am dull but I don't get the message of the poem. For me it doesn't make sense because it sounds incomplete. What does the writer trying to say in the poem. Will you please enlighten me a little to understand more.
Meaning Shah Khanam | Dec 1st, 2003
it's a hard to say what EXACtly does this means but from what i see is that the world is for those who call it home any where they stay, not for the ones who have one home & they whave to search for it.
Searching Injy | Jan 6th, 2004
It sounds to me like someone who is searching for somehing missing in his/her life. There is something wanted and still could not be found and that is what makes him/her wander and prevents him/her to sleep. That is why it envies those who sleep assuming that they have what they have been looking for.
Appreciate the thought Suresh C Kainthola | Jul 10th, 2004
I realy like the way you had put your desire to work for the childern who are homeless & deprived. keep it up.
clarita zarate | Jul 2nd, 2005
Life is not suppose to answer every question we have or make sense all the time. The child lays down when he is tired. He romes the streets to feed his hunger and quench his thirst. This is all he knows. Life seems to hold and comfort him as he rests. Or could it be our minds and hearts attempting to reach him from far away that cradle him? Could it be our wandering minds in search of love that sing him a lullaby? - That the child who sleeps in our thoughts is dreaming through our hearts?
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