Place

When you’re alone with no where to go

Home is your own flesh and bones

They call it your temple after all

If you’re a wanderer

It’s the world

And if you leave to Mars

You could say it’s planet earth

Possibly the coordinates of your birth

So if you born on planet fourth

And if that’s all you know

You might then, call it home

What makes up that word?

Spelled h-o-m-e

Could it be familiarity?

Where you feel most comfortable

Might be the arms of another

A connection without rubbers

Maybe a quiet place in the mind

The peace we’re all trying to find

An address where we spend the most time

Somewhere we feel less lonely

The concept of “its never goodbye”

Maybe home, is not made out of concrete and stones

Instead of a certain feeling evoked

Tranquility, love, acceptance and hope

The feeling being valued and having worth

Where you can show your fragility

And express yourself freely

A place to feel safe, feel okay

A place to sleep, a place to lay

Simply put, a place to stay

to recharge when you’re worn

Maybe that’s why they say

“Make yourself at home”