My home is my place of comfort. A place I go to in good and bad times. A place I look up to and be happy that no matter what life gives to me each day, I have a place of I can call my home. It doesn't matter the luxury or poorly way a home is designed. It doesn't matter what type of home it is. All that matters is that I'm grateful to have a place to go, rest and think.
After the daily struggles for a means of survival, after the pierce of daily scorching sun and the whips from the heavy rain drops, My home is my comfort zone. I can't dislike my home or compare it with others, because my home is how I designed it to be.
Even if I have nothing in this world, I'll be grateful I have a place to call my home. I can't build my home on a lonely island.
My family and friends make my home complete. My home...My own.
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