My Bed



A rectangular wooden huge and strong
That's how my bed looks...
21 years of taking my weight, it never died, never complained, never stressed.
It's crinkled sound while changing sides, were a lullaby for me,
Though embarrassing when I would sleep with my cousin on it.

My panties, bras, skirts, shirts, well these are the usual things you might find on my bed,

Sometimes even books, if by mistake I am in mood to write or to read.
Holding me safe and upright, the legs of the bed are like my family
Without any one of them, I'll fall!

The sheet on my bed shows my nature,
Colours here and there, flowers and teddy bears
Yes I am a kid, no matter what's my age,
And my imaginations are still full of candy floss
Pink and red shades with little bit of gloss.

The bed is the audience and it has been the stage
It has seen my every emotion, love, cry and pain
The conversations with my girlfriend or my love,
It never leaked my secrets
For it can't speak of course!
But imagine if it could?
It would have consoled me for all the wrongs I have done, for all times my heart has been broken,
Would have kept my secrets in it's box beneath
No, I don't think it would have ever cheat!
The rectangular wooden box is old and wise,
It doesn't measure my character with my size,
It's mine till I don't switch the house,

I hope my new bed would treat me with the same warmth. 

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