As we all are well aware, the school year is rapidly ending, and I'm both happy and sad about that. It really didn't hit me, however, until about two days ago when I started taking down my decorations and cleaning out my dorm room. I never had a singular childhood home, and my family moved to a new house after I finished high school, so dorm life truly became a tiny home for me.

Emptying this small room was a sad, reflective period in my life. Lots have things have changed in these past ten months, both good and bad. This poem I wrote encompasses the overall journey I had in my first year of college, and I hope my words resonate with others or help them reflect on their own lives.

Home Is Where Your People Are

The day is here,
And the world is brand new,
Our lives once again a blank canvas.
So you smile at anyone and everyone,
Anything to make a friend,
To make this place home.
You think, home is where the heart is
But what if your heart
Is an hour, a state, an entire country away?

True, it's hard at first.
It seems you're the only one unhappy,
The only one not fitting in.
Everything you do,
Everything you try,
Never quite good enough
And Friday nights are made for lonely hearts;
Saturdays for the pitiful.

Until finally,
Finally,
You find your missing piece;
Not a lover, not a place, no,
But a wonderful, beautiful array of humans,
And you could have sworn they were made of angel dust
Because nothing else could ever be so pure,
So wholesome, so lovely
So enchanting as this.

Home becomes these four walls,
And a handful of people,
Your people,
And the heaviness in your heart fades away.
You feel it, the light shining from inside you,
Everything falling into place again,
Everything feeling whole.
And Fridays are made for friendship;
Saturdays for the hopeful.

Yes, maybe you studied so hard you cried,
Or drank one too many shots,
Missed one too many classes.
And maybe you failed a test or two,
Or broke your own heart loving somebody
But the day would always end,
The sun would always rise,
And your people would be waiting with open arms.

But even good things must pass,
And suddenly the year is gone,
Friends are graduating,
And you're left behind again.
Or maybe, just this once,
You're the one leaving,
And hands are letting go of yours
And your people are saying goodbye.

Time has flown,
And your wounds have healed,
But no one can live in a moment,
A memory,
No matter how much they beg and bargain.
A door creaks open,
A lamp flickers on,
And now your four walls are bare,
Your room is empty,
And home is packed away
Box after box after box,
And none of it feels right anymore.