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