I Come Back Here

I drive past the muddy road filled with potholes,

Then I take a left turn to enter the community.

I don't remember the number of times I've driven past the long pole,

This is the road I take to reach home usually.

The most familiar and comforting drive ever.

I hit the familiar bumps on the road,

The potholes that are all filled before the elections.

After a quick turn, I reach my heavenly abode,

The place where I can be myself without anyone's objection.

The longest road out is the shortest road home.

It's just four walls made of brick and clay,

But it's the memories in there that make it different from any other set of walls.

The birthdays, shoe marks on the doorway, scratches due to memorable violent horseplay,

The laughs, the jokes, the slip-ups and the falls.

I travel the world to find what I want, then I come home every day to find it.