Not sure if this is a poem or a song.
Cracks in the ceiling, stains on the floor
There are probably remnants of lead in the layers of paint on the wall
But I like it more than my 80’s house
That never felt like home.
Have a courtyard instead of a lawn
Elevator and stairs, a garbage chute in the hall
But I love the old building with mysterious creaks
And the hidden stories surrounding me
Can watch the sunset while I eat
Hear traffic and sirens and sometimes my neighbors
But I feel safer and more secure
Than in a two story house alone.
Home is a feeling you get
When you walk through the door
A place of comfort with your things on the walls
Home is where you want to return
After work or a long trip
Home is where you want to sit and watch the rain.
