This Room I Call Home

I wrote this poem just now. It just sort of came to me, out of the blue. Guess it's good I'm going to be an English major...

It’s cold in this room,
This room I call home,
While strangers and friends,
Friends and strangers,
Roam outside, living their lives,
And I’m living mine.
This room is small,
This room I call home.
But I fit comfortably here.
I’ve learned to adapt myself,
To time, and space,
To be anywhere else would be strange.
I have friends here,
In this room I call home,
And they have me.
We all have our own rooms we call home,
But we’re all at home in each other’s rooms, too.
I suppose it’s because we’re at home together.