'Home' Poem by Destiny McGeough

How do I love a structure made of broken wood and sweat.
A four wall jail to the mind.
Watching the step by step did not attach me to the meatless bone house I'm supposed to call home.
Why take my possessions out of the cardboard framework when they sit so nicely on a shelf.
This will be no home to me
For I find home within a heartbeat I feel when I'm holding someone close.
Home is the complacency I find when looking into my niece's eyes.
This will be no home to me
Because I refuse to love a box that confines me with each open door.