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.