Home is a place of refuge, refuge from the storms of life.
A home is not a house.
I walked pass an overhead bridge and saw tattered luggage scattered everywhere.
My heart lurched in sorrow, and I wondered what makes someone
Lose a home.
I saw a man’s face, peering out of the darkness, the man’s face scared me but I was curious all the same.
I walked home, sad because I know by morning, he would be gone.
Killers and murderers even found refuge in the
comfort of a home.
Oscar Pistorius is one.
If you have a home,
Thank God, if not,
You can find
A home if you
don’t lose
Heart.