Basketball Is Home

• Jayden Dcunha, Grade 7
• Poetry
• 2014

The wind in my face is like the smell of my mums home cooking.
But the only difference, is that the ball is my drink and the hoop is my food.
I'm always cheered on, never booed and at home it's always the same.
The court I run on is like playing with my sister.
Every shot made in just like a laugh with my dad.
But if I hade a brother every swish will be a high five or a hug .
If I step outside the line it's like I have crossed the barrier.
If I dribble the ball down the court it's like I have been recognised.
Recognition to me is a big thing it is something that supports me,
It is something that... Is......it tells me that I've made it.
Doesn't it remind you that you've done something amazing?
I mean think about it don't you feel amazing when someone recognises you.
I know this poem might not rhyme but here is something that does.
A house is built with bricks and stone but a home is built by love alone.