Where do you go when you are feeling down?
Or if you are wearing a permanent frown?
This poem is a place you called home,
Though it’s not a hockey dome.
A house is made of wood and beams,
But a home is made of thoughts and dreams.
When you enter your house, you look up and beam
But inside you feel so fragile and delicate like cream.
When you arrive home, you feel so excited,
And deep inside, you feel so untighted.
Inside your house there is your mom, and your dad.
Then there’s your brother who thinks he’s rad.
They may be your family,
But you inside,
You feel so much anxiety
While you sleep in your house and lock your eyes up,
You feel scared, lonely and scarcely heard.
When you sleep at home you feel love,
And the positivity that you got makes you feel as free as a dove
Let your mind go, be free and roam
And when you are done,
You can come
to a nice place called home.