Place Of Hope

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is about my bedroom.

Submitted: November 26, 2013

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Submitted: November 26, 2013



Where better a place,

To hope for hope,

To wish for life,

Than my bedroom?


From sky blue walls

To pale wood strips

An object, a picture,


Can ignite a small spark in my soul

That burns, and eats away

At my fears, worries, doubts, anxieties

Until I feel that I

Could take on the world

With a hand tied behind my back.


Even just the slightest of things

– A rug, a pen, a paper that flutters

From the cool breeze

Let in by the half-cracked portal

To the rest of the pessimistic world –

Can bring back a flood of experiences

From a time when

Everything was true,

And nothing covert.

A time when friends were friends,

A time when apples were apples

– Not a fruit that could have worms

Hidden from view

By a frail, thin, breakable skin –


And even this insignificant item,

So full of memories

From a simpler time,

Can cause my dreams to be unleashed,

From never-previously-acknowledged depths

Of the prison

A strictly school-trained mind can be.

And these dreams, and hopes, and wishes

Make me feel infinite.

Anything is possible, nothing impossible.


With these dreams defined

– Thanks to that eternally over-looked object –

I leave my room feeling complete, and


The hopes I have,

Blossoming in my heart like a flower,

Were conceived by accident,

But it may always be

Best this way.

Innocent, unadulterated hope,

For me it is always

– and forever will be –

My bedroom.

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