A bed too bright and red,
A chair harder than my skull,
A room that wasn’t mine,
I only leave when I have to dine,
I am not at home at my home,
Wish I was back at Temple,
and not the one in Rome.
Alexander Kitsmarishvili
not home
A bed too bright and red,
A chair harder than my skull,
A room that wasn’t mine,
I only leave when I have to dine,
I am not at home at my home,
Wish I was back at Temple,
and not the one in Rome.
Alexander Kitsmarishvili
English 802 Spring 2020 
I appreciate the brevity of your poem. It felt just right. Although short, it was impactful. Especially the line of “I am not at home at my home.” Maybe it’s partially by chance, but the color red tells a more so dramatic/aggressive story so I guess it worked in your favor that your bed was red. It goes right along with the use of “skull” and the sorrowful tone of the piece. I’m sorry that you’re having a rough time but hey if it makes you feel any better it is DEAD on campus so you aren’t missing too much. But I do totally understand what you mean in regards to just simply wishing that things were back to how they were before all of this madness. The use of a baby picture (which I’m just gonna assume is you?) also spoke to unhappy you might be/possibly might have always been. I hope things improve for you. Hang in there !
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I relate! You made the poem quick and good, and I think a lot of people have similar feelings. This is a weird situation. The kid really shows how I picture the writer. Emotionless, looking off into the distance, hands clasped in his lap, letting it all happen.
I hope you are doing well!
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This is a really heart felt poem! It must be tough being all the way in Rome when truly what you want is the life you had at Temple. The conditions and strict regulations must be hard to deal with over there.
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