Daniel Tkachov // MY ROOM

My room is where I spend my time

with the air being still

and noise being nil


My mom calls it a prison

because I’m always in there

so much that I never smell fresh air


I’ve grown to be used to my green rug

and my favorite blue wall

Why would I want to leave at all?


I work here, play here and sleep here

It’s my favorite place where I can disappear

I’m comfortable staying until my doom.

It is after all, MY room