My Room: my refuge, my prison, my cage.
Today while doing some extensive cleaning in my room, a poem popped in my head. Initially i ignored it, but something kept nagging me inside my head to write it, so i did, not sure if it makes any sense, but at least i tried. Here, read:
My Room is my life, it is my soul, it is where all my secrets unfold.
It’s sometimes a mess, i must confess, i do my best to keep it spotless.
It’s where my valuables lay all day, i sometimes wonder if there is where they must say.
So much information it holds within, browse thourghly and you’ll see within,
it’s really pathetic that i wrote this poem on a whim.
It’s a real god damn shame that i will have no choice but to leave it one day to a
world where i will have to face all night all day, graduating from a room to a mansion
will be my greatest expansion; with the world i will have great interaction. My room, my refuge, my prison, my cage.
By Gordon Swaby
not bad. i love my room as well.. but leaving it for a bigger space aka the mansion.. i wont feel bad at all lol.
Not bad star! I’ve never been poetic about my room before.
My room’s cool too, but I wouldn’t write a poem about it.
Eventually women and children will invade your space and you room will never be yours again. Enjoy it while you can.
Hey Gordon,congratulations to Holmwood on their magnificent victory at Girl’s Champs.RESPECT!!