What Home Means to Me

A home isn't a house as much as a house isn't a home. In a home, you're never truly alone. People you love lead the way, No matter how far away. You will always feel welcome and never small. But a house? You could feel like a mouse! A house is a place to stay But your mind will drift far away. At home you feel safe at last And you never want to leave too fast. Having a home feels safe and true, Because you know people love you. Home is more a feeling as well as a physical place. Having that place to go no matter what you shall face. Yes, a house has windows and doors galore But home has the family picture you took in Rome. Maybe it's your mother who waits at the door Or maybe your dog sniffing the floor. Maybe the laughter that fills the air Anytime, anywhere. Whatever it is that makes a home to you, You will always love it, no matter what you do. (*This poem was written as a concrete poem in the shape of a house.)