The Place Called Home

When I have my family and I am in my home I need nothing else. My home is filled with love, and we have a roof above. I have toys, and I have joy. I have books, I have fishhooks. When I come home from school, I go to my room which is cool. When I first came into my home I thought of it as just bricks, this happened when I was five or six. Now I think of my home as a place that is loved and cared. And I have enough to share. Home is a place that I can be myself. Also for everyone else. In my home I am with my family. And our arguments never end in calamity. My home is not a dome but it is my cared for home.