My Cradle and, Sometimes, My Cage

My bedroom is usually my cradle
It is where I am happiest
Be it if is, small and a tad cramped

I almost never leave here

If I had almost all the necessities, I would never leave
It would be paradise
Though, I would have to leave at some point to restock my resources

Sometimes, though

My cradle is sometimes my cage
Especially, when it is sweltering hot
Or freezing cold

And the fact I refuse to leave it, even in those circumstances

Sometimes, very little happens there
Leaving me quite bored
And, lazy, which in turn makes me sleepy

Nevermind, that it is right next to noisy room

When it is my cradle, it offers me sanctuary
Particularly, in which to flee
And, lock out all things outside

Though, the door doesn't have a lock

It is where I blossom
Where I can truly be myself
And have a place of musing.

When it is my cage, when others invade
Or bang quite on the door
Or come in quite most uninvited!

Often, during those times, I cannot help but to feel rage

Yet, I still never leave

In fact, it is even more of a cage when I am forced by chance or circumstance to leave!

Living in isolation, shunning almost all sorts of outside interaction is often

Nevertheless, my bedroom is both my cradle and, sometimes, my cage