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Houses, of man’s senses are built,
But home, of the heart;
Bonded unity couldn’t be more singular,
One’s absence sends a fellow down memory lane,
To come back home.

The echoing sounds of laughter,
The pitter patter sound of young feet
Patting the cold hard floor,
Giggles from toothless chubby cheeks,
The shrieked wail,
The stubborn persistence of calming tears,
At the sight and touch of home
Screams louder, the feeling of being home.

The soft padded furniture that
Stomachs your fatigued body,
The dish that bears your sometimes unrich meal,
The tub that brightens with joy at your warm sight,
The familiarity of everything within and without,
The feeling that wraps around you,
An aura that reeks of one thing:

The beckoning of your return
while for fortune you stray,
Strikes than thunder,
The night speaks it aloud,
the day is not left out,
– Even the loving arms of a stranger
can’t deprive you that feeling;
Satisfaction comes with the breath of home…

That was our home.

~ Precious Ifechukwu Muogbo

Current Video on Youth Shades TV – Men jump over babies in order to cleanse the babies of sins.


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