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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