Bedrooms are everybody’s sanctuary,
A Quiet place to reside.
So here’s a poem about mine,
Maybe you could share about yours, sometime?
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My room is when the sun gleams,
Its golden-orange rays seeped seeps in.
And when the night falls,
It is where the moon sits,
Bringing moonlight into the window slits.
My room is where the wind brings salt,
From the waves that crashes the shore/
And when it is dawn,
It is when the moon turned orange,
And it is at its fullest,
Like a huge crystal hanging in mid-air.
My room is where the secrets lay,
The voice that is kept hidden.
And where the beauty of the night lies.
It is at the west,
When all things rest,
Where magic at midnight occurs.
~S.H.~
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