Walking up to the front door,
I see your eyes widen with disbelief.
“This mansion is your home?”
I shake my head and unlock the door,
“No, this is my house,” I correct you
as we enter the building where I live.
A house is nothing more than a structure,
a place to sleep in, relax in, have fun in.
Your personal property can be stored there.
Doors, walls, windows, furniture, roof.
These are the things that make up a house.
When you feel like it will never stop storming,
you keep some comfort to help you make it through.
That place is where your home is, whether it be a
physical place, a state of mind, a person.
A home is not made of physical things,
rather it is made up of love,
trust, honesty, support, caring, and acceptance.
This building we are in, it is my house,
But my home, is something it is not.
My home is with you, my friend,
for it is with you that I have a place
of comfort and love and all the other
wonderful things that come with being home.