Home is not the kitchen where all your meals were prepped and made, 
It's where love and kindness was once shared and hate died in the shade. 
Home is not the bedroom where you once laid your weary head, 
It's where laughter filled your belly and curiosity challenged dread. 
Home is not the bathroom where you washed and combed your hair, 
It's that familiar loving hand that bathed you with care. 
Home is not the hallway that gripped your sandals and bare toes, 
It's a place to go for safety where love continually flows.