The Meaning Of Home
We turn into our road, I look out the window and what do I see? A yellow house with the big maple tree. I relax.
Home is where the pine trees sway, home is where we laugh and play. Home is where I like to stay.
We like to go fishing together, some days could have been better. Some people do not have a home, some only have the streets where they roam. How can we help them with their problem?
I am writing this poem to help some families in need and to make sure they always believe!