My room is my safe haven,
It is my sanctuary, where everything is safe and open,
My room is my palace,
So ornately decorated,
with trophies and rare treasures.

My room is my comforter,
A place where I can be me,
A place where I will not be judged by how I look,
By how I act, by how smart I am.

My room is where I can be at peace,
Where I can let out my emotion,
Where I can do my poetry without disturbance,
Where my heart can explode with uniqueness,
My room is so perfect with  pictures of young me,
Hanging peacefully on the walls.

In my room I keep the rarest of my treasures,
My room holds, my very escents in its warm hands,
My room is powered by my weirdness,
It pumps with gold flowing through its walls.

My room warms me to the heart,
Making my troubles slip away,
Holding me in its tight embrace,
My room speaks to me,
But not with words.

My room speaks to me through
The shadows the light cast through my open window,
The way the pictures look down at me,
My room speaks to me with the other senses,
How the colors of the walls reflect on the lighting,
How the bed creaks to my presence,

My room speaks to me through feeling,
My room sends me cold warnings through the night,
The bed squeals in triumph to my arrival,
The room is dark and shady,
The light shines through the window in a morning call,

My room is my room,
It is also my comforter,
And my safe haven,
And my palace,
And my sanctuary,
And my gold pumping, comforting, one of a kind room,
My room will always be My Room.