Home
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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
