by Sophia Joseph (8th)
It, when we think about it, is only a room
A room with a bath, to shower the filth of the day off of you
Bathroom is only a word that we say
It’s where we take waste to be taken away
If we become ill, we spend much time here
Waiting for that dreaded feeling to near
It grows in your gut, it wrenches and turns
But then comes a hand, warm on your back
Nice, like cool water on burns
Paint on the finger, chalk on the hand
Came from making your own personal wonderland
Rinse it away, down the drain in the sink
Magically disappearing, you’d think
And there you can hide when thing don’t go your way
The door with a lock to hide you away
You cry and you sing and you wash and you jump
A room with a bath and many things more
Now look at your bathroom like never before