The band cost me a tear
They were from home
Brought up a memory of home
I have no home
Only a memory
A memory of friends
Former friends
Home is a memory
A mental construct
I went back
Encountered a memory
But was only a visitor
An emotional tourist
The faces I used to know
Who knew me
Knew me no more
My memory encountered strangers
Startling, sad strangers
Home is a memory
A mental construct
And yet
I wasn’t happy at home
Day after day stretched out my misery
Stagnation and stupefaction and boredom
And friends,–the faces
Faces I encountered again and again and again
And that counts for something
That counts
This all I forget
When I miss my home
Home is a filtered memory
A mental construct
David Fekete 