A House Is Not A Home

A house is built with brick and stone, Its walls stand tall, its rooms are unknown. But home is where we feel the light, A place where love makes everything right. The house may shelter through a storm, Its structure safe and toasty warm, But home is where the heart can grow, A place where love and kindness flow. A house may echo, cold and still, Its rooms are quiet, lacking thrill. But home is where we laugh and cry, Where dreams take flight and spirits fly. A house may shelter, strong and wide, But home is where we find our joy inside. It’s where we grow and find our place, A haven filled with love and grace. A house to me is nothing much, but a home is a kind loving touch. It’s not the walls, the doors, or space, But love that fills our special place. A house is not a home. A house is just an empty dome, a place where you feel sad and alone. But a home is where you feel truly known.