Second Home

Second Home short poem

Photo by michaelkmak

My heart is your second home.
Waiting for you to get home after a long day of work.
Drive up the pathway of eyes and park.
I’ll be looking behind the blinds.
Talking to you the whole while.
Pass the trees of every heart throb.
The sun inching further down.
Our moods the opening of the door.
I am hoping that you take tomorrow off.
You’ve had a long day and I completely understand.
Even if you have to leave, don’t forget you always have a home here.
Where you are always welcome.
Where there are no bills, no worldly stress.
The depth of how we communicate.
Always there to welcome you back

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