Home Town

She was more enticing than France, Nicaragua, Sierra Leon.
She called to me more than the whole world.

We wander the world in search of something...
someone...
that feels like home.

I never had a hometown.
Now at least I know what it's supposed to feel like.
She was my hometown.
I belonged right there between her neck and her shoulder,
between her left arm and her ribs.

It's funny how fast that goes away, that feeling.
Those itchy feet are back.
I never thought I'd see them again.

I'll see the world but look for her, again and again.

This is the sadness we all have.

This is the wanderlust.

This is that tired feeling, that makes you wanna keep running and running and running.

This is the sadness we all have.