The journey of life

I travel to and from a place.
It is not far away.
But anyhow, I have to face
the foreign, if you may.

The place is not my home and I
am sorry it is not.
No matter if I walk or fly,
home sickness I have got.

Indeed, the place is anywhere
established, not my home.
All day I travel. Over there
I miss my honeycomb.