Home is hanging with a few close friends
It's always spending time with family if not now and then
It's laughter, and hugging, and yes even tears
It's someone beside you as you're facing your fears
It's "good morning" and "what's for dinner?"
"I'll see you later", and "is there anything good to eat?"
It's not about where you lay your head to sleep.

Home is about the memories and the moments you hold dear
Talking about your long day with mom and dad
Or having a shoulder to cry on when your sad.
It's movie nights and nerf gun fights even when your "too old".
It's snow forts in the winter and couch forts when it rains.
It's being surrounded with love when your world seems full of pain.

Home is Christmas cookies, ice cream, and making apple cake,
And spending time with Grandma, learning how to bake.
It's a bro's night out at the movies, or breakfast in bed on Mother's Day
And it's dancing to the music in that particularly peculiar way.
It's beanie babies, teddy bears, and memories so sweet,
Basketball, and baseball gloves, and sometimes muddy cleats.

It's sewing fingers, broken fingers, and shutting them in doors,
Broken toes, and scooter falls, and hospital trips galore.
It's talking all night with your brothers, and driving together to school
And making fun of brace face whenever he would drool.
Home is not a building not confined to just one place
It's more a state of mind, a memory encased.

Family are the friends you're born with and friends the family you choose
Home is being with either for in neither case you'll lose.
They say home is where the heart is, so I've split my heart in three
One for family, one for friends, and one to keep with me
For life is full of travels, sights I have yet to see
Yet no matter where I'm headed, home is where I'll be.

1/13/17 1:00 am