What Home Means to Me

A home’s the meaning of comfort and safety, It's a building that holds the heart. A house is very much the opposite, It barely holds out the dark. And back to home, a mental space, To feel and love at all hearts grace. Now to house, a physical structure, With all the walls being a rough and hard texture. A home again, feels comforting, And filled with endless passions. Well a house, feels quite broken, Having nothing to be spoken. And home to sounding filled with laughter, Hope, joy and happily ever afters. A house sounds silent no flare, fizz, pop, or pizzazz, Just quiet, loneley, no snazz. Even with ups, a home has some downs, A home could look as though a complete mess, but nothing always looks it’s best. And with a house, it looks quite plain, Boring, simple, all the same. My home to me, is an elaborate place, Where I feel comfortable and truly safe. It’s a space for me to be me, And that’s enough personally. And to all those without a home, Life is full of rocky roads. I’ll write a poem every year, Just to hear you all cheer. From all of this, home is the heart, It’s a place that never loses it’s spark. Everyone deserves this space, Filled with only all things truly great. (The poem of what home means to me.)