Teenagers Bedroom

The teen-agers bedroom the dreaded domain,

A place of their own privacy and inner sanctum.

That dreaded bedroom door and what you find inside,

Heart thumping as your hand touches the handle, no place to hide.

Opening the door and slowly walking in,

Knowing that you're about to enter the residential bin.

The room dark, sedate, and dim, trying not to trip or fall,

Just the glint of light from the showing from the hall.

Dark mountains and shapes all around,

As you opened the curtains your heart falls to the ground.

Standing in the light and in its true glory and now in shock,

Piles of dirty clothing and smell of sweaty sock.

Ashtrays full and flowing and trash where the bin used to be,

Where was the carpet the one we used to see?

Cans, bottles, crisp packets, sweet wrappers, yoghurt pots, things that look obscene,

Makes the local garbage dump look quite tidy and clean.

But worst is yet to come when peering under the bed,

The sight that greet you, wishes you were dead.

Cups, dinner plates, and side plates covered in alien culture, that fills you with dread,

Books, comics, paperwork and magazines swimming in your head.

And all the hours of cleaning up the endless mess,

The teenager comes home and you can only guess.

MOM! What have you done to my room? Its private I said,

Screaming, tantrums, and abuse going through your head.

After all the time you spent and the miracle  you done,

Another battle not quite won.