MOH

A home is NOT a house. A home has a deeper meaning, the shared memories, laughter, and love most all. A house feels like two doves with different personalities. The comfortable couch goes in harmony with the calming melody of the scorching hot chocolate on a wintry frosty night. The kitchen where loving aromas introduced from two distinct cultures, all that WE hear laughter coming from my peers. The morning sun is just a fresh start to a loving day waiting to be done. My home is a place, either where you were born in or where you moved to. But at the end of the day, it is the one that has kept me, and you sheltered. When at home you feel at last, perhaps from a long rough day at school or from work. As I jump in bed I wrap myself like into a warm chocolate cinnamon bun with a tingling affection as safe a vault. Me and my family with mom’s spaghetti and meatball being eaten faster than the flash never getting beaten. With the final ingredient about included, primarily called, family. A song to home, Every second, as the day goes by, I think of you, like an angel in the sky.