The House, My Home.

A house is built with brick and stone, the walls stand tall, every crevice known. It might have a window, a roof, and clean, fancy floors. But all it lacks is the heart behind those doors. A home is more than that, where you laugh, and where you chat. It's where love fills the air, with the familiar scent of sweet, comfy air. A home is where memories are here to stay, where the love, and heart grow along the way. A house might shelter you from rain, but the home is where you ease pain. It's where it holds the warmth of a kiss, melting you in eternal bliss. The house stands in silent grace, but the home is always a sacred place. It's made of love, not of stone. A house is built, a home is grown. Bella Sapp