The school bell rings the children run
All thoughts of lessons flown
With dreams of freedom oh what fun
At last they’re going home
The factory hooters the office clocks
The workers feel like drones
The prisoners tremble in their docks
At last they’re going home
Bus drivers know if they are late
Their passengers will moan
Each one of them just cannot wait
At last they’re going home
The doctors and nurses all who tend
With outcomes all unknown
Can’t guarantee that they can mend
At last they’re going home
The priest when preaching to his flock
Beneath the churches dome
Are they listening probably not
At last he’s going home
However weary the path we wend
No matter how far we roam
Welcomes us like a long lost friend
That place that we call home
Jeannie Freeman, November 2025
Link to Creative Writing Web Page
Group Leader: Mike Biggs