Home Poem by bob barci

Goin' home
and I don't really want to go.
I'd much rather stay with you.
With you I am home.
Moving train brings me closer to a place
too far from you.
There, it's a second home.
Though I spend most of my time,
I'm not really home.
It's a weekly visit to relatives.
Saturdays don't come quick enough.
I rush out as fast as I can,
only to dread Sunday evenings at 9: 26.
Two days of bliss
and I get stranded on this train.
Goin' to a place known as home.
Home is where I feel most comfortable.
And that home is you.