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Poemathome
Poems
Feb 2021
Bedoffice
My bedroom is inside my office
On weekends, I lay in my bed.
The air is soft, quiet, and light.
The goose-yellow lights are rolling from the four corners of the room and stop gently on me.
I roll over comfortably, stretch my body, hug my pillow, oh, it's so comfortable.
But the bed creaks, saying she was in pain.
Written by
Poemathome
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