Coming Home

When I come home, I feel peace and happiness. Like war was over, and everyone was forgiven. When I return home, a linger of love grasps me into a happy filling hug. As if, all sadness, sorrow and hatred were blocked, by a force field. After I walk through the door, and I'm settled in that warm feeling, the air tenses fresher. Like the wind of a beautiful, blossemy spring day. The scent freshens too, as the comforting smell of love cooked dinner glides through the kitchen. Home is where love lives. Like the house was the body, and love, us, were the heart. When you come home, full of fear, a bed you’ve slept in for years, Like always it will restore your happiness. Nothing can break through the love of you and your family. As you live a happy life in your home, you will create memories. Coming home is an exaggeration. When you leave the outside world, home is where you return. A home is an amazing thing to own. Some out there do not have a house, you may not know, but maybe that person might have home, family to go to. A home is special, we all hope everyone can have one.