"This is My Room"

This is my room and you cannot enter here.

This is my room because of the incense I burn everyday.

This is my room because of the picture framed on my dresser

Which I kiss every night before going to sleep.

This is my room because of the comforter you made me buy

Because you didn't like my old one - it was too old.

This is my room because I keep my writings here.

This is my room because I hatch my dreams here.

This is my room because I am the one who designed it

With the blue paint you so detested.

This is my room because I fought for it - painted these walls myself,

And now you praise me for my creativity.

This is my room because of the papers scattered on the floor.

This is my room because it reflects my inner thoughts.

This is my room because of the filing cabinet I spray-painted,

Because of the poems and pictures hanging on the side.

This is my room because my cat sleeps here and waits for me,

Making it all the more special and sacred.

This is my room because of the summer afternoons I spent daydreaming.

This is my room because of the late nights I've spent

Scratching out poems, aphorisms, and swiftly fading dreams.

This is my room because of the night-light glowing in the corner

Which you just don't understand.

This is my room because of the sign in Italian on the door

Which also proudly proclaims: Vincit omnia veritas.

This is my room because I say so;

Because my cat guards it for me;

Because my vision is painted on the wall;

Because I listen to my music here

And I sing my songs.

This is not my room because my stuff is here.

This is my room and you will not enter here.