Would we even feel at home
In our own grave?
Because all of my life,
There were houses and buildings,
But never a home.

I stumbled through doors,
With paint peeling and cracks,
Embarking on a journey,
To find that missing piece,
In lonely nights and crowded streets.

The echoes of laughter,
Faded into silence,
As the walls closed in,
Reminding me time and again,
That bricks and mortar,
Can never guarantee,
The warmth of a true sanctuary.

I resided in spaces,
That consumed my every breath,
With hollowness hanging in the air,
Like a haunting melody,
Whispering secrets I couldn't comprehend.

In suffocating rooms,
I searched for solace,
Amidst lifeless furniture,
And never-ending darkness,
Yearning for a place to belong,
A refuge where my heart would sing its song.

I measured every inch,
Scoured every corner,
But how can you find home,
In the cold geometry,
Of walls that feel nothing?

For home is not defined,
By mere square footage,
Or the tick of a clock,
But by the essence of love,
That lingers in each step,
The embrace of belonging,
That sets a weary soul afire.

Home is the laughter,
Of family gathered 'round,
The aroma of memories,
Bubbling in the kitchen,
The comforting touch,
Of a loved one's hand,
Guiding you through life's shifting sands.

Home is the symphony,
Of familiar voices intertwined,
In heated debates and tender confessions,
Where differences meld and hearts align,
Where souls intertwine,
In the dance of genuine connection.

It's a shelter from life's storms,
Where tears find solace,
And dreams find fertile ground,
Where wounds heal,
And hearts mend,
In the embrace of a home,
That transcends a mere dwelling.

As I wander through life's maze,
Amidst houses and buildings,
I shed the weight of unfulfilled dreams,
And seek the intangible,
That elusive place,
Where love is the foundation,
And walls breathe with life's pulsation.

I yearn for the painted memories,
Adorning the corridors of my mind,
For a garden where laughter blooms,
In the canvas of shared experiences,
For walls that resonate with stories,
Etched in every crack and crevice.

My home will not be a place,
But a living, breathing entity,
A tapestry of emotions and love,
Stitched together by treasured moments,
Of joy and pain, of growth and hope,
A sanctuary where my soul can unfurl.

I will search not for four walls,
But for the intangible essence,
Of a home that throbs with the heartbeat,
Of the ones I hold dear,
For in the end, it is not the house,
But the love within,
That truly makes a home.
© Jevanjee