What home means to me

My alarm rang The birds sang I heard my sister running downstairs I felt the hairs run down my face Home is my safe place I look out the window I see the sun I look down and see kids having fun I smell my mom making pancakes I feel the cold cloth of my clothes on my hand I taste the supper from last night in my mouth, it tasted grand I slid down my stairs, the warm rug heated up from the sun I thought a little. Today was going to be fun. I saw my mom holding the dirty pan The pancakes must be done I gulped them down one by one Sprinkling with syrup each and everyone Home can be fun It can be sad It can make you mad. Home is a place where memories are made.