At My House

There is always fighting There is always screaming There is always crying There is always laughing There is always a mismatched sock There is always a place for someone There is not always a place for something... There is always a loving mother There is always a sensitive father There is always a sister to confide in There is always a brother to keep the show going There is always a light to hug the dark There is always noise to swallow the silence There is always a note to be played There is always a page to be colored There is always a cup to be filled There is always a door open to anyone There is always all these things at my house