Missing Home Comments
Home is gone, stolen by our enemy.
Home is broken, and nothing left for me.
Now I live in the wreck of an old van,
And my pillow is a soiled baking pan.
...
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Home is where we can sleep in peace.. Not afraid of the masked gunman... Home is not like displaced persons camp... Lovely....
Homeless! ! Nothing is left for me. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
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7/19/2025 4:09:21 PM # 1.0.0
Brilliantly written... Daddy is not here because of a gunman Mummy is not here because of a masked man