in my house in the corner a rocking chair no
one is allowed to use sits with a faded hand crafted quilt draped on.
Just her memory, and how she hugged me, after spanking my ***.
Taught me, that home is not a roof over four walls, or the march of cockroaches across a ***** floor,
nor the flowery wallpaper all my friends houses had,
but home is hearts caring for me enough to teach me the lessons,
wise, that a whole bunch of life is hard, to survive, granny said,
it takes a strong will, purpose.  
alone, I am tempted, to rock in it, again like I sat in her lap, all those many whippings ago. Warm cheeks and whimpering as she said, one day, you will learn.