What is Home? Poem by Dom Root

What is home?

 

Home is warm

Reflections of

Fond memories…

and

There’s a little part of me

In every place that we use to call home,

I say we,

Because

Home is family or reminders of…

From the apartments around LA to that one house in Carson, where I planted my first peach tree…

Home is a combination of many things.

 

Home is hearing

the sound of my moms truck

Pulling in off the street…

And running outside

To help bring in the groceries…

 

Home is knowing

Where the Crips had beef

And if the streets lights worked

We’d have something to marker

when we needed to be home by,

with no tangible role models

we had to learn quick

how to be grown…

 

No matter how much time was there

For us to play with

I felt as if tho, none was left

Constantly racing against the clock to

Get to get to what is next

Still uncertain about what i was expecting…

Asking mama can I go out with my friends?

Home is where I first experienced rejection.

 

Home is family barbeques

and friendly fades

Outside of the arcade

And that drinking underage

Had us on for days

 

Moms use to cut my hair

When I got bad grades…

So eventually I’d find my way,

Cause the low cut fade wasn’t getting me no play.

 

They say Home is where your heart is,

But I have one small edit, and that’s to say

‘Home is where your heart lives’

Because even at my Grandma’s house I feel at home,

Or when I went to my aunty’s in the summer,

I never felt alone, and sometimes

I didn’t even want to go home.

 

Home is what you make it,

Full of things you hate and a lot of your favorites,

Things that’ve made you, who you are today,

And impacted your life in a crazy way.

 

Home is hearing your name…

Yelled from the living room.

And you respond with a huh

Knowing damn well she meant

Wanted you to come see what she wanted…

 

Over time home evolves,

You fall in Love

And soon create a family of your own

With a few little seedlings to teach

The definition of home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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