16. THE COLLECTIVE #2 (Home)

Here's the second piece of my collective. I feel very connected to this piece and as I read through this poem the first time, I couldn't help but somehow imagine how my late grandmother's house used to be. It's a place where you would see anyone, of any race and of any age, have conversations and sit next to each other. There are times, where I don't even know how they got there and why they were there. The next thing I knew, we were already having lunch together.

#2 Home - @aamnablc

I want a house I can call my home,

and the people in it,

my own.

A home where I'd be received with open arms,

and not closed doors;

I want a home where my people would smile at my sight,

not frown with their teeth clenched ever so tight;

A home where conversations are held and love is spread,

not a house deafening with silence,

where people resent;

I want a home where conflicts are resolved by communicating with one another,

and no, not by throwing cold shoulders at one another;

A home where children are considered equal,

and therein, respect is mutual.

I want a house I can call my own,

and the people in it,

my own.