A Place Called 'Home' Poem by bilbo reid

Wwhy do we call a place our home
Are we not made to simply roam
Surely we should all be free
To travel lands and cross the sea

Is our home where we are born
Or just a shelter from the storm
`Where err' the heart is`some may say
But this could change with each new day

When we look upon a mountain high
We climb it's peaks to touch the sky
Or venture into it's deepest caves
It's to our instincts we are slaves

We still have freedom in our minds
To take a journey of many kinds
Back through time into the past
Or wish the future here at last

Can we not make our own choice in life
Surely this would reduce our strife
Perhaps no restrictions there should be
And no more boundary's for us to see

Is a home where we make our bed
Or maybe just inside our head
Is a home with our own kind
I think perhaps it's just a state of mind.