OCD

Constance was a hoarder.
Her life was out of order.
She lived in a mess
I must confess
I would not like to be a boarder.

Nobody could walk in the door,
Excrement and junk covered the floor,
She could not throw anything away,
She collected more rubbish each day,
Items she had no use for.

Constance fed the cat, dog and the rabbit,
Who all had disgusting habits
Which made the house smell
And it was a living hell,
For her neighbour, Mrs Crabbit.

There was no room to move in the house
Even the rats and flies, and mouse
Found it a squeeze
Made them all sneeze
Even the parrot had a louse.

Poor Constance had a compulsion,
She had a disorder and didn't have a notion,
How strange this would be
For you and me
When we showed our revulsion.

What a dreadful affliction
A hard-to-understand addiction
They need to change
But it's challenging to rearrange
And go in another direction.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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