Room Poems - Poems about Room

Funny how a room dies First it’s off to college Then out into the world Blink twice, there’s marriage Into the abyss,...

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There is a room no one remembers. It exists between seconds, beneath the sigh of clocks, where grief collects like dust no one dares to clean. A boy once lived there. Not in body but in everything the world chose not to see. He was the note never played in the song, the letter erased before the ink could dry. He breathed like wallpaper quiet, patterned, unseen. No one ever...

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I rented a bedspace like a borrowed name— half a mattress, whole silences. My roommate talked in her sleep, and I envied her dreams. At night, I listened for footsteps outside the door, pretending one might be fate knocking, or you. ...

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There is no God in this lightbulb. Only the slow hum of its dying. My shadow curls in the shape of a fetus on the tile floor, unwanted by chairs, forgotten by the table. I sip yesterday's coffee like a ritual. Cold. Black. It does not speak to me but I pretend it does. The walls are beige and unjudging. They do not hate me. They simply...

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Summer Haiku 36 ...

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Neighborhood Gossip He walks all alone and does evil things, quietly making puppets walk without strings. He's the only one who emerged from the wreck. When you sleep, he'll stab you in the neck. Am I Wiser Now? I wanted to know what it all meant so I visited the Asian continent. Am I wiser now, back...

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Summer Hiku 34 jasmine flowers in bloom fragrance fills my room~ drunk with perfume. ...

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we have AI in every single room plays music, but cannot put us on Zoom we can ask her the weather or facts on TV she will explain about Simon Legree We ask her questions ten times a day She is always there, never wanders away how old is Jenna Elfman or Twiggy we ask. In seconds she can complete almost every...

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She doesn't speak, she just observes feeling all the hidden curves every laugh and every tear holding close what's far and near in the noise, she's calm and still quiet heart, but strong will things that burn inside her chest never spoken, never stressed she's the calm beneath the storm different, soft, a secret form the loudest voice you'll never see the quiet one, who...

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In a room with four walls, where light dies like a trapped butterfly, stands a mirror, a glass doll, with silver lashes that lie beautifully, it whispers to me that I am enough, that my shadow dances, that I am not lost, with sweet words, poisoned honey, telling me I have purpose, that I'm not behind, that the world...

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In a room with heavy curtains, where shadows dance on walls like forgotten memories, It's not just about touches, nor bodies pressed together or rumpled sheets, It's about how you undressed me of layers of silence and fears with your hands like a gentle wind, In the bed that seemed a secret island, you taught me to be...

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Hot desert days, scared— but can’t show it. Eyes sharp, hands steady, but the heart’s in a fist, shoved somewhere behind the plate carrier. Brothers have my back, and my heart. They’re the reason I walk forward when every instinct tells me to run. We don’t say much— just nods, tight grips, the kind of silence that means I got you without ever saying a damn word. Guns boom, lights flash, a...

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"An empty room that defies explanation is a timeless mystery only to those that don't remember the reason" Quote by the Poet Maybe someone had memories of the room. Maybe they were all long forgotten by gloom. There was eeriness, as if inaudible whispers remained, Bouncing echoes off the walls, neglected and stained. A chill was imagined even on sunny...

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“In my empty heart – only memories” by poet Today our mother had his bed removed and took posters down – even things he’d drawn depicting stuff of which she’d disapproved. Those posters that revealed his heart – all gone! She took his dresser out, and all his clothes she folded up to donate to Good Will. His nice suits in the...

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A Room Full of Unwritten Poems A room— Quite not real though, Not built of woods or bricks, Structured with the unfinished and unwritten verses, Smeared by weathering paint, More like an echo left without the speaker. Swaying curtains, now getting silenced. Door hinges rusted, creaking— But in my mind, It’s just similar to those small giggles and laughs Left behind by the envied person. Envy because...

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