What home is to me

Home is a place where I live, under a roof that’s not thin. I may give or receive but it is a home to me. It may be where I sleep or eat in peace, it may be where I'm warm or I’m free, it may be where I have my own beliefs. Nomatter what colour I am, my family would love me. There is nothing to stop me from going to my home unless I don’t have one like the homeless without a home, so that’s why I wrote this poem so people unlike me will oneday have a home. My family would comfort me whether I was sad or mad, whether I was grateful for what I have, I live in a home but do the people that have nowhere to go, have a home? It is sad to learn that there are people without homes, it is sad to know that there are people with nowhere to go. But memories hugs anything good would be made in a home where I live, a comfy bed or a pillow under my head, sometimes where tears would be shed, but there was nothing better than my home, all I want is to give others a home. But the most important thing in my home is the people who live in it to make me loved.