Poetry: My Home and Its Inclinations.
“Nothing is better than going home to family and eating good food and relaxing.” – Irina Shayk
The house's frail gate opens effortlessly
Like the pages of a much-flipped book
And, on entry, my eyes need not settle too long
Upon objects already fastened in memory.
Here, inclinations and obsessions
And the private tongues all families forge
Are common things to my reasoning.
What need is there to begin to talk like another
Or claim to be of another personality?
The whole of this building is acquainted with me,
Its occupants' blood flows through my veins,
All are cognizant of my anxieties and flaws.
The best of all account to happen is this;
That I should not be doubted
Nor haunted to succeed,
But to be let into the presence of all
As part of an undoubtable Reality
Like the trees to the forest,
Or water to plants.
Author: @abumaryam
