Home poem

Home 'A small little den or a big mansion it's not the skin of the house but the people within. Without my family it's just walls and a ceiling but when we move in its a whole other feeling. My brother pitches balls to me in the back, while my mom and dad unload everything we pack. We sit outside and play for hours on end, and then my new neighbors come, and I make a new friend. No matter how I feel, I always can come home to a nice hot meal. If home is where the heart is, then then everyone should experience this.