I've been thinking about what it means to be home, and what you feel when you're all alone, some people might say it's the person you're with, but people leave and you continue to live.
Sometimes it's a place that makes you feel warm, A place you go to get out of the storm, Or I've heard aswell, that It could be a feeling, The sensation you get when you're quiet and dreaming.
But that would mean that I should be homeless, Is my life truly that worthless? there is no one, no feeling or place, That I would call my happy space.
In truth, I think home means something more, It's not something that you can simply look for. Home is something hidden away, Waiting to return on a rainy day,
For home doesn't rely on something else, But only depends on you, yourself. Home is your heart, your mind, and ambitions, Home will follow you, whatever conditions
Home is ingrained into your soul,
And therefore, you are all you need to feel whole.