When I think about my home, I am home
I can feel the texture of my couch
The feeling of closeness of living in my dome
Just like the warmth of a kangaroo pouch

I can smell the passiflora, spicy and strong
Or the fragrance of my son’s Just Joey rose
The purple and orange colors mixed along
Where the bright green leaves grows

I see the sticker on my wall
‘Did you already smiled today’
A great big smile or just some small
Received one or gave a few away

But most of all when I think of home
I see my children and my man
That’s where my heart is wherever I roam
That is where my love began

One comment on “Home

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