My Home is My Home

My Home is My Home By Landon Brink, Grade 6, Age 11 My home is somewhere I sit everyday My home is a place where I can play Somewhere safe where I can stay When I’m at home I am not a stray My home is strong like a man, not a mouse My home if you look closely is not a house My home is not a dome, and don’t even think its made of styrofoam My home is big not round, part of it is even underground A house is cold, but my home in my view is made of gold A house is sad A house is lonely But a house is not bad Some people don’t have a home Some place they can call their own Some people sit on the road, waiting til they freeze their bones This is why a write this poem We should show some love We will be blessed from above