Saturday, November 28, 2009

My room

My room is a spectacle of confusion I have been told .
It's untidiness I feel has always been bold .
Clothes are lying on the bed , in a pell mell ,
My school bag ensured that in the morning my mother fell .
The study table is cluttered , with pens , pencils , erasers and textbooks .
and ironically you don't know , where for a pen you should look .
Most visible surfaces are coated with dust .
But no matter what , disorganisation is a must .
You may say why ?
And i'll tell you why .
Because in it's untidiness , I feel at home .
I don't want it to have the beauty of Rome .
My room is my temple , my safe haven .
only when it symbolises my mood , It feels like heaven .
On a gloomy day ,
I look at my sisters scirbbles and the gloom goes away .
When my anger is at it's height ,
all my belongings throw I might .
My room gives me the freedom to 'wear' my mood .
Over life , in my save haven often do i brood .
And once I am in , my life is good .


  1. good one..iam also a strong believer of the fact that a house or ur room should not look like a museum..

  2. How true , u r 1 of my fav readers :)

  3. its really funny! Deffinatly the bit about u're mother falling is it true?!

  4. Rightly said , but I lyk 2 keep my room messy .

  5. haha i love it!! totally describes my room too..

  6. yah , my mom lectures me almost evry day , but my room will remain the same .