Wednesday, October 16, 2013


Home (revision) 
by Emma Lippincott

From the days I have wandered
To the places I've known
I've been looking for a place to call
A place to call my own.
I have never found a place to stay longer than a day.
My very own.
I've never knew about anything
Until I came to a world that is so strange.
Did I die and come back to life?
Was I killed and burnt?
Does anybody know about what happened to me?
Because I obviously don't know. 
I have tear stains on my eyes,
I'm crippled by love fear
I know all the lines,
I know all the answers,
I'll try to do better,
Until I'm too weak to try.
I will try to do better until
I can find a place to call
My own place.
A place that I can call home...

1 comment:

  1. Home: I can see that you have paid close attention to sound in this poem. "know" "home" and "own" all use assonance to cause the reader's ears to perk up. The idea of home here is interesting--you show yourself as searching for a home and unsure of what home is. I can see evidence of you having cut parts that weren't essential. Nice!