Going Home Poem by Mad Gone

As I pushed the heavy leaden shopping trolley through the aisles,
Preventing the trolley as it tried to the left to sway.
A man passed by, as many had did before that day.
He looked back and gently asked if I knew the way?
The way to where? I had to ask,
To my father's house, he simply replied.
Where does your father live, I asked with a sigh,
Why everywhere, but I believe you might think he lives but in the sky.