Where is my home? Where graffity is welcomed .

If I tell you that there is this thing

Makes you go wherever you want to be

A chance given, to find prosperity

To cleanse yourself, to achieve purity

But this place is thousands miles away, thousands years away

Will you grab it and go on through ?

Or will you back off  from changing your view?

Where is my home?

A state of trance away from noise

Where you actually could have a choice

When I find it, might I rejoice.

Chuckle I do, when I look at you

Loving a shallow moronic buffoon

Because he says not what is true

But cursing your so called enemies

With hate and gloom.

 Where is my home?

A museum of art , a temple of spiritual

Nothing and everything is a miracle

When I find it, I’ll never be criminal nor hysterical.

There is no “I” in “team”, Maybe not

But there is an "I" in independence, individuality

and integrity.

And you can’t acquire them academically.

Nor by knowing all books alphabetically .

Where is my home?

A place where we all are equal

Where there is nothing evil nor illegal

My home is where I do feel peaceful .

“Inspired by George Carlin , my teenagerhood and the faded graffiti of Mohamed Mahmoud Street”