Home isn't just a house

When I get off the bus at the end of the day, or come through the doorway of a long Saturday. I feel a sense of peace at home, a sense that can only be felt in this dome. My favorite room is the place I sleep, It's the place where I can rest and weep. A place I can game and play, an unforgettable place of the day. My bed is so comfy and my dog is adorable, my puppy is so sweet and my mom is unignorable. The room in my basement, so fun to play. The rock walls and ropes, the best place to swing and play. A home isn’t just a house, It's a place opposite of a jailhouse. If you want to know just what I mean, you have to come to my house to see. It’s where time comes and goes, yet warmth remains beneath the glow. My shelter from life’s rushing stream, it’s the best place to build a dream. My home is more than wood and stone, it’s every heartbeat I’ve ever known. A house is walls, but home is true, when the bus comes to a stop, it's finally my cue.