Home Poem

Home is not a place, home doesn’t have only one form, Home is where the heart is, home is said to calm the storm. I would say home is where I want to be and the only thing that exists is family, Yet still, my heart searches for the right place to call home. If home were a building, the walls would make me feel safe and connect in my feelings, deep, with no judgment, I would share my secrets for only them to keep. If only it was that simple, finding comfort, peace, and calling it home. Beyond the physical that everyone sees, my mind floats with the breeze. I find comfort. I find peace. I found my home, somewhere I’m meant to be. My home is my imagination, where I can be what I want to be, feeling free.