My Home

My parents finally come home. So I go to google chrome. Then I go eat some food. Sometimes I can be very rude. But most times I am in a good mood. I appreciate my parents for caring about me. Like when they took me to the sea. They care for me so, so much. And I love them very much. My parents cook good food for me. Exactly like when I was three. The food is always so good. Just like my carvings of wood. My home is a loving place. It has so much beautiful space. Every corner is filled with love. Even the big roof above. Every room is filled with memories. I don’t have any enemies. Although I have many friends. They all stayed till the end. My home is my favorite place. I pretend that it’s my base. In my dreams I feel like I can fly. I believe I can touch the sky. My home is where happiness shines. Even if there are sometimes fines. I pretend I can climb vines. When I’m at the top I see signs. The signs shine happiness on me. Exactly like when I drink tea. This might be the end of the poem. But I am writing for my home.