In My Room.

My room is my shelter, my home,
Where I live and roam.
It is the place where, l play ;
Remain safe and feel slay.

When I come inside, through the room door,
I feel comfortable more;
Nobody in my room lives here,
Except for me and my things there.

My belongings are full in my room,
Which I have to clean and broom.
No one other of my things rather;
Only about my things, I have to bother.

I have a bed where,
I sleep and rest.
I keep clean my pillows and blanket, keep it aside on my bed;
So, it doesn't feel like a fest!

Facing towards the east there is a windowpane,
At least, from where my room air gains.
Keep it fresh and fragrance filthy,
So I feel to breathe healthy.

Full of books and study belongings, there is a table,
Where I sit on a chair to be able;
To do my deeds,
As I like to write and read!

In my table, I have a stuffed toy;
That brings inside me, a joy.
Loneliness in me disappear,
When I see it
And feel more happier!