A House Is Not A Home

A House Is Not A Home

By Abdulrahman M Abu-yaman

I was born and bred in an aesthetic and gigantic castleSurrounded by mountainous fences like we anticipated a battleBut when those tall walls made me lonely like a prisoner in solitary,Then I realized that a house is not a home

I wake up every day hoping to see me and my parents having a family breakfastDisappointed I get when I catch a glimpse of their departing vehicle accelerates so fastBut when this scene and sequence became a recurring decimal,Then I realized that a house is not a home

At school I watch my friends speak of their adventures with their parents with wonderThen suddenly they turn to me and ask if I had any back home as I ponderBut when it occurred to me that I had no tales as such to tell,Then I realized that a house is not a home

Back home as I arrived, I was received by a very cold receptionCharacterized by echoes of emptiness, loneliness and deep depressionBut when I noticed that the house meant nothing without my parent’s presence,Then I realized that a house is not a home

Later in the day I anticipated our good looking house would attract friendly visitorsLittle did I know that the security features frowned and repelled them like insulatorsBut when I constantly remain caged in my domiciliary dungeon,Then I realized that a house is not a home

As the night falls, I rely on soap operas to keep me company on TVWatching stories that reminds me of how homeless I am as I envyBut after quitting my hope on my parents arrival that never met my presence,Then I finally realized that a house is indeed not a home

 Image source – examiner.com

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