Love and Home

Love is a fickle thing,
I ponder inside my brain, what is love really?
Is it a person, place, maybe a feeling;
Some people consider home a place,
Some consider it a feeling,
I consider it a person;
I was born from my mothers womb,
Genes of mother and father, yet they aren’t my home,
They aren’t the people I love;
Human you are, someone worth love,
Not words but actions shown to me by people I love
Twenty years of my life, maybe more-
This is the time I’m giving to the ones I love,
Time I’m giving to my home;
Wake up I shall, go to one home and work
Come back to my house into the arms of another home:
This is how I wish to spend my life,
My home is a person, my love goes to few,
But only the ones who deserve it.