Upstairs and to the Left
Up the stairs and to the left,
Is the place where I retreat.
My bedroom is the place where I feel most at home.
Sitting on my bed, I can cry,
And no one will see me.
Laying on my floor, I can write in my journal,
And no one will read it.
Cuddled up in my bean bag chair,
I can spill my darkest secrets on the phone,
And no one will hear me.
Alone in my room, with it's lilac-purple walls,
And dark blue rug,
I can play music of my choice
And no one will complain.
In the dark, I can hold my Carebear,
At 15 years old
And no one will laugh at me.
In my room, I am in control
And no one can take that away from me.