As I wander into the wilderness of Manhood
Taking along with me memories of my childhood :
Memories made under the roof and four walls called Home ,
A place part of me still hunger for , as I journey to tomorrow.

On my journey to finding a new home , I learnt
That home is not a place and not a roof with four walls,
But a moment ,and another moment, all building on each other
To create a shelter that we take with us, our entire life.

Home is an idea that only the homeless can fully appreciate.
It’s like a battlefield where love, peace and trust unite
Against the armies of pain and sorrow.
It is a place where we believe in forever.
A moment we pray never ends and wish everything will remain the same.
...
Happy days are missed in the days of sorrows.
This I found as I go in search of better tomorrow.
Each day, I strain my ears hoping to hear mother’s lullabies again
And still wish I could harvest my needs in Father’s pocket ,just like yesterday.

Mother’s Ears no longer hears the pleas of my stomach
And Father’s pocket has become a Barn that feeds only my siblings.
In their Eyes, my hands have become a fertile soil
That should grow and harvest all my needs .

Now I am left in the forest of my own dreams
Handed blunt machetes to chop down woods
Which will build my saving Noah’s Ark in tomorrow floods.
For the clouds patiently awaits me at the mountain of Fatherhood.

Brilliant!

Nice read

Lovely read.The metaphors sprinkled throughout this piece are simple but very gripping especially in the final quatrain.Kudos@Op.