"𝔼𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕀 𝕠𝕗 π•₯𝕙𝕖 π•™π• π•žπ•–: π•Šπ•–π•”π• π•Ÿπ•• 𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕗"

 


Just releasing a group of constrained emotions🫠🀍


Experiencing the first half of the poem myself.


Beyond the walls, where silence hums,

a symphony of memories softly strums,

in the kitchen's warmth, the fragrance lingers,

of meals prepared by loving fingers.


A door creaks open, echoes of laughter,

in every room, a happily ever after.

Through the corridor, footsteps echo,

in each nook, a cherished cameo.


The kitchen, stories unfold,

where tales of joy and warmth are told.

The hearth that crackles with stories untold,

in the warmth of love, hearts find hold.


Yet, in absence, a candle's glow,

a beacon of love in the ebb and flow.

A virtual hug, a whispered prayer,

a connection that transcends time and air.


Across the miles, a bond unbroken,

a love so fierce, in words unspoken.

Through seasons changing, and winds that blow,

Home is feeling that continues to grow.


For those who wander, and those who roam,

in every heartbeat look inside you'll find your home.

In the vast expanse of the universe's art,

Home is etched in the chambers of the heart.




POET: TBH: HIMπŸ‘€


Comments

  1. Home is not a place its a feeling

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