Home Is Where I Roam

My home is a rental, I’m always in a new place. But, I long to stay put and roam a wide open space. I’m eleven years old and I’ve moved that many times Eleven’s a lot, one of life’s biggest crimes We once owned three houses, can you even believe? Then Covid hit, such hard news to receive. My parents struggled to keep things afloat So we sold all the homes, I thought we’d end up in a boat. Then things started to slowly turn around And my parents began to finally rebound We cautiously went back into house hunting mode Our goal was to find our ‘forever’ abode We bought beautiful land, where we thought we could build We spent time designing our family was thrilled Things didn’t work out with that glorious lot So we had to sell it, tough lessons were taught We then flew around the United States Hoping we might even change license plates We put offers on houses and were always outbid I felt desperate and sad, will I be a homeless little kid? It wan’t for a lack of trying but offers fall through, there’s no use in crying I’ve come to accept that my house will be waiting But until then, my home’s where I’m staying We have all that we need, in my little suite A family, a bed and something to eat It’s not the building that makes this my space It’s the giggles and memories by the warm fireplace It’s the smells of baking, candles and more Friends will always be welcome to our open door