My Home

My home is a box of memory. That holds good memory. Where you can never be judged While a house is a place crowded It doesn’t hold your thoughts And no one supports Your memories and thoughts In your home You can make mistakes Even though you make mistakes You won’t be judged Because it’s the place you feel attached In your own pretty home You also feel secured In your home In a house You will get protection But it’s just physical protection Where you don’t feel comfortable Because it’s not your place that is inimitable That holds your memories In a house Someone could be a judge Which makes you feel uncomfortable. My home bloom Like trees or a flowers So how does it bloom? When family and friends Have fun times It starts to blossom But a house Doesn’t blossom Like a stiff rock Even if you and your family have fun times It still doesn’t blossom Like a farm rock A home is meaningful To everybody in this world I think it’s wonderful To have a home anywhere is this world The biggest reason I wrote this poem Is to let people know the reason Why having a home Is very important