The Home I Call My Own

THE HOME I CALL MY OWN The home I call my own, so big and proud, My shelter, my comfort, my food, my warmth, My cozy, God-given blessing, so grateful I am, To call this home my own, My safe place full of my memories, Where I live my life, a place with no enemies. Now a house, with no means of life, Other than the occasional shady lowlife, Now empty, because of the displace, The house, forever forgotten memories, now to be replaced, So many people, too many I dare say, Simply don’t understand, Your home is a place for you to forever stay, Not to be somewhere else, so far away, If you move too much, You’ll never make those memories, And that is, forever your dismay, My home to me is so, so much more Than a sturdy building, For the one home I call my own, Is simply a place habited with memories and each other, And those memories, Are the ones with one another