A place called home

Another place, another time,A place called home
Its not a city, or a flat, its a place where you own the streets
Where the roads are yours, the air is yours
You are not an intruder in somebody elses air
Where every person on the road knows you belong...where you know you belong
Where the nearest family or friend is a stones throw away...so is the farthest.

Where things around you change but yet they dont

Ina strange land , the possilbilities are endless
the roads are always exciting, always new.....Where every turn can bring a new surprise.. or shock
Slowly, the road starts to turn automatically under ur feet....ur feet find their hold on the cracks in the pavement and roads become familier
You start to own the air u breathe....
You start to feel like its ur city....
Here too, u feel like u belong, here too..

Things around you change but yet they dont