Fixated on a house,
Never using the word ‘home’
For it was merely a word,
Attached to a meaningless box.

Vibrancy in childish hands,
Watercolour and crayons—
I surrounded the abodes
With flowers and rainbows,
hoping to make myself
feel more welcome.

Years painted over years,
Colors muted to ideals—
I grew through my will,
Finding darkness comfort.

‘Home’ continued to elude
Until I found union with God—
Inside a house,
But always at Home.