Finding Home
by
William Robbins
copyright 06-02-2002
Age Rating: 18 to 127
A slamming door
never says, "I love you,"
especially
when closed
by the hands
belonging
to one’s circle of blood.
Wandering,
lost in an outcast’s labyrinth,
blindfolded with hate and anguish,
the green, hellish flame
of rejection
tortures in burnished, bursts of despair.
Through the vaporous ache of seeping lucidity
a stranger’s unexpected clemency
speaks a welcome mat
belonging to a home
where care isn’t vanity’s conditional showpiece
and the hearth of bonds
creates one’s true family.
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you recommend or rate the work highly...
You are so masterful at this poetry business....this was a wonderful and brilliant piece...I love how the whole of it is as if being spoken in one breath.
This poem is very strong William. I hope that writing it gave you some peace. I feel like you are on the other side ofthese feelings now. Keep writing words can do alot.
William this is wonderful images are great and they go so well with your words of master creativity, No matter what the blood remains the call that makes us remeber where were from where weve been and where to go home to. I loved this poem
We cannot pick our relatives, true....
Some strangers bring out the best in you.
Non-competitive, with no past mistakes to throw in your face, just offering caring. It is a good world to live in when people reach out their hands in friendship.
Well described!
Welcome !
