where am i

there is a faint question,
blowing in the cool air
from my button controlled fan.

and it asks,
"Where am I?"

the world has become something where I never leave my room, and I lay or sit all day everyday.
because what would be the point of doing anything?

I am miserable in my comfort.
with fear paralyzing me, I stay miserable because this is all I have known.

"Old dogs can't learn new tricks."
so I will stay in this comfort, with a smile on my face
and eyes of glass.