Home - Confessions of a Broken Heart

I've learned home isn't a building or structure,
Or a place to hang your hat.
It isn't numbers that make up an address,
Or anything to do with a welcome mat.

I've learned home isn't a location,
Or place made to lay your head.
It isn't about a yard or garden,
Or table where bellies are fed.

I've learned home isn't a setting,
Or a beach house on the sand.
It isn't built with money,
Or materials used with laboring hands.

I've learned home is a perfect melody,
Played between two hearts.
It happens inexplicably,
From when the music starts.

I've learned home is a place of joy,
Decorated with the finest in life.
It's there in a smile or goofy grin,
Or tears shed during hard times and strife.

I've learned home is a place of peace,
With purposeful natural design.
Warming the heart and healing the soul,
From gloomy days when the sun doesn't shine.

I've learned home is a place of love,
With a porch light brightly lit.
A door that opens without effort,
For a key that perfectly fits.

Sadly...

I've learned home is where you are,
But I didn't arrive on time.
No porch light was on to light my way,
And no open door did I find.

Now I hate what I've learned
because we're apart.
Just let me stay at your door,
With my broken heart.