I have romanticized hotel beds.
As a kid, I called the concrete home,
And nothing was better than a hotel bed.
My brother and I would fall like Icarus
Onto the feathery home as we said,
"There's nothing better than a hotel bed".
They were our trampolines, our forts
That protected us from the horrors we knew
And in that hotel bed we were nothing short
Of limitless.
We could laugh, we could fight,
For once we could be warm through out the night.
But that bed was more than just a place to sleep,
It was an escape from the every day.
Its something every child knows,
And most adults have tried to forget.
That whenever they lay
In that fluffy white bed
The world is their's to own.
So whenever I see a hotel
I'm transported back to long ago
When cold and wet
My brother and I
Fell, deeply, into a hotel bed.