A Poem About Home

A house is made of brick and walls. Sometimes big, sometimes small. A house is empty, dusty, and cold. And along comes a family ever so bold. Working at a fairly fast pace. They will restore the house with grace. Through sweat and heat, They do the feat And finally a home is born. Boredom and ends spread all around, Sitting down they feel bound, To the home they rose from the ground. They decide to have a family trying to branch off the tree, And now they are free. Today love and joy extend, Instead of boredom and ends.