my room; a box of devastation
rubbish was strewn and hidden
a war zone with rubble
I forgot to shave my stubble
because I was too reluctantly preoccupied with the task ahead
as I waffled with a wobble as I ruffled my bed
television on, lots of built-up waste
I needed a plan of action; of change
my o' my I am quite the hoarder
had to resolve the dusty disorder
I managed to fill up three black bags
with scrap, wrappers, rags and mags
It took me a while to skin my room clean
she must've been crying from two until six
but it was definitely worth it
I breathed a sigh of relief
for my room, she was spotless
smiling as her light shone on my folded polka dot briefs
Comments
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this was delightful. how you took a (somewhat) simple task and turned it into a nicely rhymed poem.
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Thankyou very much.
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Very good
Ive read a few of your poems and decided to comment on this one... I like your style and the way you write about small things in life reminds me a bit of Robert Frost...not exactly of course but the way you choose to write about life or rather whats feels up life instead of all the cliche subjects.... Great write..
Kay Laon Anders
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thankyou for your comment.
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