My Poem

The room is nice
the bed, the color of the room
the room Is all his
he has never had one
I know you are think a room, but no its a bed
He can rest andlay his head
on his really soft bed
Learning about his family is a hard thing to do
He gets with her and his family grew
He had their backs
They didn't no his facts about his life
She became his mother indeed
They learned to get alone he went to college and had a great life.