My room was in a word, chaotic

My bed unkempt, my desk lackluster

Closet door couldn’t even shut

It was such a disaster

Shorts on the floor

Underwear on the ceiling fan

Mom was sick of my messy room

Told me “Come up with a plan.”

“I want a plan to clean up

your messy room if you can

Because if you can’t then

you are grounded young man.”

“And I want it done today!”

“Today you say!?” replied I

“That’s so impossible

the thought makes me cry

But it was of no use

The old hag wouldn’t budge

No use putting it off

With cleaning supplies I did trudge

But as I worked and vacuumed

and scrubbed and folded and

trashed and washed I thought,

“Ah well, life is still grand.”