My room,

a place full of memories and nostalgia.

Full of objects

That maybe they are not needed,

but I sure don’t throw them away,

everyone makes sense

and has the poetry of him.

In this place

In which I close myself

Sometimes stay out of here,

It has a high cost.

I don’t always like it

Facing the opposite

I want to be alone,

you think of yours.

This is where it is sealed

The monster.

This room

It looks like a refuge

But it is only from the outside,

but never from inside.

A place to live

Holidays and colors,

joy and pain.



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