Home

Home I open the door, step into my room. I hear my mother cooking dinner, Trying to make her soup better. The smell blends over the room. People have homes, wherever they want, whenever they want. But my home has magic powers. You might hear a loud echo if you shout at a wall, but at home, you feel a blanket of love to cover it all. A fake home will have invisible hands to cover your mouth; a real home will have invisible hands to hug you along. I go back home to complain about the thunder storms But home will not complain even about awful tsunamis. HOME cannot just be four cold letters, Not a house Not a shelter Not just a plain word. Home is a bright path in the deep dark forest, That shines with love, wonder and is always continuing to take care of me, And leads me to the only purple dot, hidden in the sea of pink balls, home. A place to love others, A place to be loved. Tamier E.