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Sometimes I want to go home.

Not this house, home,

But the one I grew up in.

The family home and hearth.

TheĀ  place I knew so well

It’s nooks and crannys

The garden and the tree I climbed.

The old swing and the rockery.

Doors I shut forty years ago

Creak open in my mind.

I wish I could shut my eyes and go.

See our old pets, the roses by the back door.

Dad’s motorbike, mom’s hair in rollers.

Little memories make me homesick.

I would drive there now at 2am

But a new family live there.

I feel lost.

I wish…

I miss

Home.