My Troubled Cluttered Room

I stack it high, but don’t sell it cheap, don’t sell it at all
It accumulates wall to wall, floor to ceiling, a mountain tall
The task is horrible, it zaps my energy, makes me tired.
Sorting, cleaning and throwing are things of which I am not wired.

I feel exhausted in this troubled cluttered room
I make phone calls, or contract relatives using Zoom
They give me all kinds of advice on what to throw and what to keep
I don’t take any of it; this mess makes me want to wail and weep.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace