The Man with the suitcase 061

The Man with the suitcase

As far as memory could serve
i was always in some place
but never at home
for that place doesnt exist

the word home....
is foreign to me
it does not exist
in my head or my dictionary

strangely i couldn't care less
it suits me better that way
for i wont be leaving anyone
i am just living by the suitcase

whenever it bring me there i shall be
do i ever for once remotely reconsidered?
i did have a naive thought once
but it backfire on me

maybe i am better in solitude
for i need no comfort, care or concern
much less comprehension of me
that's what core of me always scream

i needed no home
for i never had one to begin with
the compulsion to move is everpresent
although lately i am having doubts

Europe or Japan
was my scheduled destination
but i am still here
i am not very sure either

maybe i am clinging to something
in what human call hope
or i just dont want to run anymore
for i am feeling very weary

what does a man like me do
to settle myself to a place
i am not sure either
maybe is the thought of home

but i have no home
how does a home feel like?
i do care to know
i do yearn to know

as for now
i still stuck with the bed
and that annoying suitcase of mine
in what i called the image of "home".
i am afterall the man with suitcase