It's not exactly a poem, or a proverb, but it's something interesting to think about. I was contemplating what a true home was, I think this is fairly close to what it is.
A home bound hope helps the one with a home, but home is where the family is and what is a family without love? So where is the hope that you can escape to without a home? Peace escapes the one without hope, and without peace, what is it to live? To live is to love, and where best to find love than with a family? But what is a family? A family is wherever true love is found, and true love is worth dyeing for. When you have found what is worth dyeing for, you have found your love, your family, your peace, and your home bound hope.