Home was mom's womb. Home was a place away from school. Home was walking away. Home was the empty roads and bushy trees. Home was to confide in my best friend. Home was winter. Home was spring. Home was a cold breeze in summer. While I sit here reminiscing about home, I wonder when will I ever call "me" home? While I sit and wonder with the stars, When will I replace the "was" with "is" Because I am in desperate need of sleep. Of all the houses and warm places, I call home I wish the one I fail to recognize doesn't close the door just because I'm late to knock on it. Okay this goes on and on and on but you Drink more water macha.