Newfoundland and Labrador
This is a poem about my home where there is no threat to get hit with a stone. In my home I can sit on a throne or play my phone on my own or eat a honeycomb. In my home I can do most of what I wish, I can clean a dish or feed my fish. In my home I feel safe, unlike a waif. There’s nowhere like home, so I write this poem to talk about where I’ve grown.