What Does Home Mean?

Home is the imperfect place where families unite, Where laughter and clamor take place in a fight. Unlike the fall leaves gleaming in the midnight moon-light, Wistfully, waiting to cripple up, and die. At home, you don’t realize the time flying by, At times of anger, come mystic moments of joy. When you’re at home, express your feelings free and high, It’s a place where love and family together reside. It’s not a place with four walls, and a ragged roof, At home, you share lives, and live a unique youth. Home is the place where memories are made, Where lighthearted laughter never fades. When you cripple up in the gloomy shade, May a lambent smile ignite your day. Home is the place where we’re given a shove, Where we learn to love, and feel we are loved. Home is the place where we matter. Our opinions don’t seem to shatter. An imperfect place we hold dear, Where there’s nothing to fear. In my heart, home is a lot, But not what I first thought.