Coming Home


Im coming home,
From this strange land
Of self pity

I am tired of playing
The victim of my own crimes,
As time passes by,

Lush with tropical fruits
And new experiences to find
Myself anew again.

clouds that surround me
Are puffs of smoke scattering
To the blinding sun inside,

And yet i hide from this one
Like a greedy little gnome all alone
With a golden treasure,

And noone to share
Its warmth with, no care
To cast this wealth

So i can feel its glory
Expanding me in ways
Only a life’s journey

could possibly explain-
A mortal story is made legend
Only by how its given

And how well we remember
to love, to live, to forgive, and to serve
To all without, as well as within.

– jeffrey vionito

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