Bubbles I see bubbles I see them rise from my hands as I stand surrounded by the sun's warm embrace. I hear my brothers call to me from the garden. As they play I am in awe of the beauty of their innocence Or rather, whatβs left of it. Both have pulled through hell to find a place where, as children, they can truly belong. A home. My home.
A home is not physical Yet you can break it. It is something you can build Yet you canβt destroy it. My home is open to all And by all I mean anyone willing to open their own to me. A home can be broken, but never destroyed Because a home is the bond you hold with those who need you And that, is the strongest thing known.