The Tiny Room

My eyes are teary,
And my heart is heavy,
As I think of that tiny room,
The tiniest in the house.
 
I heard most stories there,
Stories of fairies, tigers and bears.
Holds my sweetest memories,
It’s the place I grew up in.
 
I remember climbing on my uncle’s back,
And pretending he was a bridge,
Him make me a plane,
Both of us gurgling with laughter.
 
It’s also where sibling rivalry brewed,
We fought like cats and dogs.
But that’s how our bond grew,
And now we are inseparable.
 
But now that room is locked,
And the house un-visited.
As all of us grew up out of it,
Carrying only the memories.
 
Oh , I forgot to describe the room,
It’s color, shape and smell.
But does it even matter?
It’s the emotions, I remember it by.

For NaPoWriMo Day 28.

Featured image by: Виктория Бородинова from Pixabay