Home is where your memories are,
It’s where your secrets are kept.
Home is where you’re happiest,
Yet home is where you’ve wept.
Home is where your parents live,
It’s where you were raised.
Home is where you’ve been scolded most,
Yet home is where you’re praised.
Home is where you make it,
It’s where you believe the myth,
That home is when you’re happy,
Just to love the ones you’re with.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Home by Eric Brock )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Name-Calling, Diane Hine
- A pan fried fish…?, Mark Heathcote
- The Persecuted, Sandra Feldman
- wedding day, ademola oluwabusayo
- Dream the moon, Somanathan Iyer
- आंनि देरा, Bahadur Basumatary
- Oh Israel, Michael Shutt
- We Lost Our Run, Rites Ghosh
- Left are the words unspoken, Aditi Khandelwal
- Poetry, Tony Adah