The four walls of my home will surely tell
How wonderfully and strongly they have held
A beautiful relationship that blossomed into many
And encompassed emotions that kept them so busy
How they’ve supported the first walk of the baby
And held her scrambled painting, proudly framed.
How the sofas and tables over time kept changing
And the scrambled painting now somewhat unpleasing
The girl, a baby no more, leans against the walls.
Their strong and sturdy texture still familiar, still tall.
As time went by the walls realised,
How the girl and her family were so harmonised
For it was their warmth, love, and hope,
That made them not a house but a home.
They laughed, they cried, they fought and argued.
But together they made memories etched in them.
The four walls of my home will happily tell,
How they are not just built, they build as well.