I open the door and step in,
A sadness lies deep within,
A welcome feeling, yet strange,
Back home, did I manage?
Seeing the familiar, my heart flutters.
My home, like my mind, has clutter,
The good kind, of the lived in tatters.
My reverie shall not be shattered,
Pictures in frames, of my past,
Trinkets of life, over time, amassed,
Souvenirs collected over travels.
Walking by, my story unravels.
Every step now, is a burden of pause,
Avoiding any possible faux pas,
Lingering within are gnawing doubts,
Coming to terms, with my whereabouts.