Bored
New meaning to... Home Is Where The Heart Is
short story by; ME!!!!
I often gather my thoughts to where so many people go. There I see laughter, and hearts
made of gold. To my left is a couple wrinkled and old. They gave me the wisdom to see it
could hold. To my right is a young man, flowers in one hand, a ring in the other. He made
me realize, there's a love in this world, I've yet to discover.
"excuse me," said the man from behind. "Are you looking for something?"
"Yes," I said. "I've lost my way home."
The man looked into my eyes. He pointed to my heart and said, "Do not worry my friend,
she's closer than you know."
I wondered what he meant, for a minutes I couldn't see. But when I thought of you, it
all made sense to me. Home is not a face that sits in one place, nor a location with
numbers and street names, nor property simply to have and to hold. It is a place of
security, devoting and safe, a place of dreams and good faith, a place... you call Your Own.
short story by; ME!!!!
I often gather my thoughts to where so many people go. There I see laughter, and hearts
made of gold. To my left is a couple wrinkled and old. They gave me the wisdom to see it
could hold. To my right is a young man, flowers in one hand, a ring in the other. He made
me realize, there's a love in this world, I've yet to discover.
"excuse me," said the man from behind. "Are you looking for something?"
"Yes," I said. "I've lost my way home."
The man looked into my eyes. He pointed to my heart and said, "Do not worry my friend,
she's closer than you know."
I wondered what he meant, for a minutes I couldn't see. But when I thought of you, it
all made sense to me. Home is not a face that sits in one place, nor a location with
numbers and street names, nor property simply to have and to hold. It is a place of
security, devoting and safe, a place of dreams and good faith, a place... you call Your Own.