No. 49

The oven door holds shut with Blu Tac
You need pliers to have a shower
But this home has never held for me
A single anxious hour.
 
There's a tub tacked to the bath side
That's channelling a drip
And if you draw them closed too hard
You'll lose a curtain clip
 
The carpet may be stained
And in places wearing thin
But when the door is closed at night
I know I'm safe within.
 
My Uncle's home's a place
I've visited since birth
And will always be amongst
My favourite spots on Earth
 
While the tiles are from the fifties
And the wallpaper is peeling
There's no better place I know
To seek sanctuary from the feeling
 
That this harsh world is just too big
And far too loud for me
In this home I simply sit
And just let it all be.
 
I hope he won't repaint the walls
Or choose to modernise
And this place may then remain
A sight for my sore eyes.
 
It's perfect in simplicity
And just repaired enough
For daily life to carry on
In peace when times are rough.
 
It may not be quite perfect
And aging, just like he
But I love it just as much as him
And it's a part of me
 
That I will carry with me,
Though far I may well roam.
A part of me will always be
Inside my Uncle's home.