Home

Home is a cardboard spaceship orbiting Mars, Or a treehouse lit by a galaxy of stars. It’s a blanket fort with a dragon inside, Or a pirate ship on a wild endless tide. Home is a jungle where tigers nap, Or a secret cave with a treasure map. It’s a castle floating on clouds so high, Where I dance with the moon in a velvet sky. Home is a Time Machine, past or future, A place where memories and dreams nurture. It’s the smell of rain on a tin-roof shed, Or the sound of whispers from books I’ve read. Home is a canvas, Ever changing, bold, A story I write, a world I hold. It’s not just a place—it’s a feeling, A song a universe were I always belong.