I don't like the sun,
that it doesn't hide my face,
so I hide in my dark closet
until it is night again,
over and over
I find no light in the day.
It would be easier
if they went away
but I have an idiot heart.
It makes messes,
it falls in love too easily,
it is impatient,
refusing to wait for the storm to end
before it ventures out of the house.
It is always the unfortunate one
who gets hit by lightning twice.
I have a constant homesickness,
I'm still searching for that home,
that one place I feel most comfortable,
and it's definitely not where I am now.
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Comments about this poem (Ambivalence by B.B. Loring )
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