This Foreign Land

This foreign land I once called home is
calling me back again
now that the hours have rolled around and
the hands on the clock point back to the start

I hear the old language,
cracked in some places, broken in others,
but familiar enough to be recognized
still telling the old stories
and laughing at the old jokes
Still singing the lyrics of a melody I
thought I had lost forever, saying

Welcome home
my son and my daughter
old man and pet
make yourself comfortable
Welcome home

chair

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