This is the place where I grew up.
This is where I took that first unsure step.
Right here is where I snuck my first Love
up to my room.
This wood and glass and cracking mortar
makes not this a home
There were dreams and hopes here
that hold these four walls together better than any bond.
Within these walls I have loved and laughed and cried.
Is this what makes a home?
All of my hopes and dreams were born within these walls.
I have learned the lessons that made me a man
growing up in this abode.
Does the warmth and love and family
make a place to dwell?
Then the answer clear came to me
as i look at this house in disrepair.
I realize it's all the memories that make
this place of life a home.