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Perspective Poem
January 13, 2022
Bed.
Every morning in winter is both warm and cold,
With two of the sleeping, each one to hold.
I spend most of the day being ignored,
And a world that’s still unexplored.
In the afternoon, I am used again,
In a room some may call a den.
Night time is the best.
I can help him relieve his stress.
Through the night, he’s alive but dead,
When he and his dog are asleep in bed.
© Alana R.
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I'm this piece my objective was to tell a story from the perspective of my bed