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Nathaniel S. Rounds
Someone in a van once told me
That long highways make for deep thought
I told him how passageways to Argentina
Make for sauerkraut and chocolate trousers
And he looked at me, waiting for the punch line
So I punched him—hard
Home is a place were you should feel loved
Not were you feel unsafe
Home is a place were your family is
Not were you feel alone
Home is were your all together
Not were your name is barely none
Home is were love never lack's
Not were family's throw punches and whacks
Home is were you heal and mend
Not were you wish your life would end