These four walls I once called my home,
With windows to let the light in,
And doors to keep the cold out.
I never wanted for more,
It had everything I could ever ask for.
Then one fateful day,
In wet, gloomy May,
There was a knock at the door.
There stood a guest who claimed to be lost,
She was looking for shelter, for warmth.
I opened my home to her.
Fed her from my plate,
Clothed her in my clothes,
And gave her my bed.
And we spoke.
She told me all the tales of her adventures.
She moved around a lot,
Never staying too long in one place.
Always on the move.
She spoke of the outside,
All the wonders it had to offer.
And I couldn’t help but question, whether my home was as splendid as I thought it was.
That night,
For the first time, I had a fitful sleep.
I couldn’t help my curiosity,
I wanted to know what lay out there.
So when it was time for my guest to leave,
I decided to accompany her,
To go to all the wonderful places she spoke of.
To create joyous memories along the way.
And so for the first time in years,
I left my home in search of excitement, adventure.
Only to learn a hard lesson.
In the midst of all the lovely stories,
She’d forgotten to mention the price I’d have to pay,
Leaving my home.
There were no windows to let light in,
No doors to keep the cold out,
No chimney to keep me warm in the night.
I didn’t get any pleasant memories,
All I got were waves of endless regret.
And when I felt like I’d had enough,
When I decided it was time to go home,
I no longer remembered where it was,
What it felt like.
I was lost, and I couldn’t find my way home.
By Nawekulo Wanjugu
