My room


This is my room…

My pal, buddy and friend,

Whom I talk to…

Every single day.

This is my room . . .

Who excepts me for what I am,

Who placates me in difficult times . . .

Who parties with me,

When I am overjoyed.

This is my room. . .

Where I grew up,

Both emotionally and physically,

It is the essence of my inner thoughts . .

It is alive

It is my inspiration . . .

It is where my beautiful poems come to life.

Even it’s walls say hello

Every time I enter . . .

This is my room

That allows me to stick tattoos . . .

On it’s walls;

That too of my liking,

The walls. .

Have the beautiful rainforest of the amazon,

With it’s greenary galore,

The most amazing road . . .

With an array of trees . .

On it’s left and right side . .

And in between a carpet of orange leaves

That welcome me and my missy . .

Every time I walk with her

Then . . there are tall mountains . .

With the water cascading down;

Into the river,

Who could have been so generous?

But . . . my room.

This is my room …

Where I can cry my heart out ..

And it remains a secret ..

Between me any my room.

This is my room ..

That connects me..

With the outside world,

The telephone, the computer ..

Even my sliding windows ..

The birds that sit outside ..

Talk to me ..

As if I have known them for years.

This is my room …

Where I think of that special person,

Who paved the way into my heart,

That’s when the walls …

Turn into tender pink,

As they coy from me ..

And give me a warm smile.

This is my room …

Where I sit on my bed,

Studying for hours …

And it sees to it..

That everything around me is silent,

And no one disturbs me ..

At all times.

This is my room …

That dances to the jolly tunes ..

Of Bryan Adams, Enrique Iglesias, Shania Twain …

And changes my mood;

To one of glee.

This is my room …

Where my imagination runs …

Beyond the realm of possibility,

My magical dreams.

See me fighting ghosts;

Talking to celebrities;

Wandering with my adorable love;

Partying with aliens;

It also sees me ..

Flying without wings ..

Through the placid and calm mountains,

Up and above the blanket …

Of lush green forest,

Going past the Bermuda triangle;

To the road to El Dorado;

Discovering tons of precious gold;

And becoming the richest man on the planet.

This is my room ..

A priceless jewel;

That adores me all the time ..

I owe it everything … everything…

Possibly Related poems:

  1. The walls in my room
  2. IF
  3. The Princess’ Cage
  4. To that friend
  5. A soliloquy…

Comments

This is so long poem, exectly this is not a format of poetry, because you wrote it in nonrythmic pattern. You manage your emotions-your sentiments in poem very well, as I can say to you that you can wrote more than one poem under this theme in place of this long poem. By the way keep it up. In waiting of your another poem

[Comment on this comment]

i mean no offence to Neeraj Guru “Badal”, but neeraj i think u seriously need to rectify ur definition of poetry.
the “format” of poetry as u put it… is a very vast term, and a poetry definetly does NOT always have to have a rhyming scheme…. also the length of the poem is also of no consequence if the poet manges to keep the readers engaged and interested and maintains the flow of the poem.
NOW, parikshit…. it’s a nice poem…. and on a very innovative topic….. it’s true how we get attached somethings like a room, a house or even a city and usualy don’t come to know b4 we have to leave it. i like the way u’ve personified the room….

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