I am like a seafaring snail
Who carries its home on its back
Every few months I set sail
And barely have time to unpack
I've scoured the earth far and wide
In search of a place to belong
I get washed ashore by the tide
But never end up staying long
And though it is some place out there
My eden is yet to be found
So I cruise down the road to nowhere
Hoping it's head homeward bound
One day I shall open a door
And a grin will spread over my face
Triumphant, I'll let out a roar:
"At long last, this must be the place!" By Phoebe Eddleston