We all have traveled all over
the world, to find comfort of some sort...
We’ve not been at home in our own
homes, always trying hard to make it right...
They say home where the heart is,
but it’s more of where the pain is to some…
Where the dreams are crushed,
even the moon seem so stressed…
A “place,” perhaps besides being
a physical location, is also a dimension of the memory,
a particular habitat of the mind
and heart which cannot be drawn on a map…
Not at home with our thoughts,
not at home with our heart, not at home with our mind...
But there’s definitely that one
place, a place to call home…
A place to call home is a place
to be loved, and a place to put things to a rest…
Where memories make up the walls,
where laughter and tears become the roof…
Where unconditional love creates
the warmth, come rain the sun still shines eternally…
A place to call home is loving when you are mad, and caring
when you are sad.
It isn’t just a building but it’s a place where you are
always accepted…
It is a place you can go no matter what shape or size,
always warm and loving…
Everyone needs that place, a place to call home…
