The warm familiarity of a home

Where you've been torn, 

Broken, and even let down.

But the same four walls,

Standing tall,

With its hand over your head,

Giving you warmth,

That's what makes a home from a house

Where you're free too break down 

Free to cry,

To let the tears out

Free from the judgment of the outside,

Free to be in love,

Free from doubts, 

that's what makes a home from a house.

A home that gives you warmth,

Is a mother unknown about,

Coming home on a crying day,

Is all one wants.

Something to think about, now that i wonder

Not everyone has the beauty of this sonder,

Not everyone has a hand over their head,

Made of bricks or made of bones that aren't dead.

So as I lie in this comfort of my mother,

Free of the troubles of wanting needs and wander,

But with food on my table,

Water in hands,

I thank the heart of this home,

To keep alive,

To keep me home.