deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Room
As I look around my room,
All I see is clutter,
Complete shit I have no use for,
An open door closet with none of my clothes inside,
A bunk-bed with scruched up covers,
The PS3 on the floor,
My guitar in the corner,
The white walls that surround me,
My unused drawers,
I wonder why they want me to clean,
Even though this fucking room will get cluttered again,
My lava lamp in Neon Green,
I'm surprised all this shit isn't broken,
As I look at this blank screen,
All I can do is type,
and type,
and type,
waiting for my fingers to rot.
All I see is clutter,
Complete shit I have no use for,
An open door closet with none of my clothes inside,
A bunk-bed with scruched up covers,
The PS3 on the floor,
My guitar in the corner,
The white walls that surround me,
My unused drawers,
I wonder why they want me to clean,
Even though this fucking room will get cluttered again,
My lava lamp in Neon Green,
I'm surprised all this shit isn't broken,
As I look at this blank screen,
All I can do is type,
and type,
and type,
waiting for my fingers to rot.
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