Coming home, to yourself

When you don’t have anything to call your own
Or a place you could call home
Because home is so far away…

The guys you chilled out with last evening,
New Friends ? Yeah maybe but who knows…
The Old…are too far away
You miss your home, your room,
Your family…

That place which is always yours
The place where you can always be yourself,
That blanket of security
Beneath which absolutely nothing can go wrong

Then,
Why are we so far away from the only things that really matter
The only things that count
Maybe we know, may be we don’t
But someday we definitely will..

Not the reason we are away
But find ourself and know for sure,
Not for them or the world
But for ourself
If it’s worth it or not.