What Home Means to Me
A home is not a building or a house
A home is what fills it with all the love and joy
A home is a place where you can play with toys
Homes are places where you get loved and supported
My home is not my house
My home is my family and friends
It’s the fun we have fooling around with each other
Its where I got my first baby brother
When I think of home I think of a cozy and comfortable place.
A place where you can be yourself and have lots of fun.
When I enter my home, I feel a sudden rush of safety and reassurance.
Then I hear the noise of little paws walking through my home
I smell my mom’s perfume and my dad’s cologne
The smell rushes through me and I fall
I fall into my sister’s arms she has her own original that I can’t explain
I hear my seven other siblings and decide to join their circle of joy and kindness. The light that shines from them is so bright and warm.
I feel my bed covers tucking me in
It feels like a stream of warmth from within
My space for things that are my own
People can’t come in my zone
If they want to, they ask
But when I say yes, they put on a mask
We are writing about our homes to help people get a house to have a better place for their home. when we submit this poem, I’m donating $10 and I’m proud of that and I’m excited to help. Bye! 🙂