Home Is Not A House

My home is not a house, it has so many memories. It's where I grew up. It's with my family. I will never sell my home. A house is much more different when I go to other people's houses. I feel very weird because it doesn't match my home. My home has all the pictures that me and my family posed for .Pictures that we remember hanging on the wall .It's where I learned to walk and talk . It’s where we belong. My home has a farm. I see all the cattle there going in tractors and having fun. Houses in the city are not the same small back yard, no big spaces, but to someone else it might be their home, a place that they feel safe but not for me.