I sought out my place
Yet seeking I did not find
I scurried hither and thither
Was it this place? Was it that?
Sometimes I thought I’d found the place
That which resembled home
But the robe of puzzlement still adorned me
For nothing satisfied
Nothing truly was home
My robe became a shroud
In time I was dying
Still searching, still looking
But as I was about to draw my last breath
I found it
My home
It was inside me all the time

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