• themaskedpoet 5w


    Home is the space in between

    The journeys.

    Knowledge of homelessness

    Is home.

    There is a tiny keyhole

    Through which you have gaped

    All your life, imagining the inside --

    You have a picture of the ceiling and the floor

    And all the furniture within.

    The light of your heart

    Shining on the empty darkness,

    Filling it with exotic shapes.

    You draw a step back

    And pull and rashly push the door;

    It will not give way.

    The key is tucked away


    Locked with

    Different riddles for different men --

    All the answers sound the same:

    Acceptance of that knowledge

    Would turn the key

    And open the gate.

    On the other side

    You will find another door.

    The space between two doors

    Is home.