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

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