Messy Rooms

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I sit on my bed and glare back and forth from door to floor
Wondering, do I really want to clean this? Or is it just easier to leave.
I open my window and the smell of fresh spring dew as it gently breeze inside,
I stick my hand out the window and the clouds begin to spit on my hand.

As I turn around I get one last eyeful of my room before I start,
An ocean of shirts, socks, pants, and old doodads I never bothered to clean up cover my floor, I look at my door once more, so tempting, like a treat sitting out, free to grab,
But this task must be done.

One by one I begin to pick up my cloths.
Shirts I haven’t seen for months begin to appear under the dog pile of clutter and mess,
I decide its best to dive in and just do it, its like jumping into a pool; you just have to do it,
Once you’re in its not so bad.

As I clean, the boredom kicks in, it seems like time is standing still,
My room and everything inside is frozen while the outside remains the same,
I am trapped in a fifteen by fifteen square box, the only way out is to finish this task.

Finally! The floor is no longer suffocating on my cloths,
The room and I are free.
As I open my door I turn around and give one last look at what I have accomplished,
I stand and gaze, feeling proud of myself.
I reach over and softly flick my light switch off, and shut my door,
I am now free.





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