My Home

Home to the young is a place where your siblings and you live, and don't forget to include your mom and dad, the love they give.

As you grow memories you build, most are touch and sound, and the embrace that only a mother can provide.

You may even move a time or two, as your father is in search of a job to support his family, all of you.

To some you may be the only one - if lucky you may have a brother and a sister, but it's okay if you had none.

I had an apple tree, and a fort, a mud puddle or two, an older sister, and my brother my hero, this I knew!

Another brother and sister were born, and we moved away from this place, to me a foreign land - a place i'd forever hate.

The memories from there, I think I erased, for they were not kind, and to what they were I'd rather not say.

Another move couldn't come too soon, to a magical place, and one that would forever be a home to my siblings and yours truly.

We made the best of what we had, for we had nothing in the monetary means, what we had was worth far-far more.

I wanted the joyous days to last forever - but we all have to age, and one by one we all left this place we called home.

I will think back to this very day, and it wrenches my gut, because I miss my mother and father, brothers and sisters, the memories we made.

I have a new home, with a wife, children , and even a granchild - memories we make, but i still think to the days of old.

I have a home, it's not a place, it's a feeling I can look back on, even one I can create.

Home is what we make, we carry it with us wherever we go, the good, the bad, and all that's between.

Home is the sights, the sounds, even scents, reflections to the days we once lived.

Home is the heart, sometimes scarred, but it is the warmth that we all keep inside, even at times it's the sand between your toes.