It's My Home

It may be a box. And, not have a lock. It may not have a window, To look out a lot. And it could be a bench, Made of wood not cement. It may be made from bushes, With some sticks as a fence. But what you see is my home. Where I live and alone. Yes, it's my home. No need to mention its condition. What you see is my home. Where I live and alone. And I ask for no approval, Since it's mine to condone. It may be a box. And not have a lock. It might not have a single window, To look out from a lot. But, it's my home. Where I live and alone. Yes, it's my home. And to me its in mint condition. This is my home. Where I live and alone. And I ask for no approval, Since it's mine to condone. 'You live in a 'what'? Home? LOLOLOL.' It may be a box, Without a key or a lock. It may not meet to your approval, But I like it a lot. And, it's my home. Where I live and alone. To ask no one for their approval, Since it's mine to condone.