A Home is Roots

A house is a fresh, new building. When you speak, all that comes out are echoes. It feels chilly. It could be the hottest day of the year but it would still feel chilly. A house is perfectly clean with pristine walls and gleaming floors. There isn't paint on the walls, no floor stains from ketchup, there are no stains on the couch. It's fresh and uninviting. There's no smell of lunch, just a disgusting air freshener. A house is lonely and a place of discomfort, not a place you would doze in or create memories. A house is like an empty playground with no laughing or joy. It doesn't seem right. At the same time, a home is full of loud chirping for food, a sibling screaming and playing with me, your grandma is cooking, while your mom is cleaning the house. Your dad just came back from work and everything seems so happy. You take a minute to notice the present; the walls are full of picture frames, memories, and people who love you. Roots are planted down, just like a tree trunk that can handle the strongest of storms And will never break down. This is not a house, this is a home! Full of memories, messes, yelling loud noises, and last but definitely not least, your family.