She cleans until every surface gleams
Cleans and cleans to remove life’s grime
Just one more time will do it
One more time and she will be through it
No leaks no spillages allowed to remain
No signs of decay; life’s easier that way
She keeps on cleaning every day
As the dirt disappears so do the years
Until the next time she looks in the mirror
Sees the woman she has become
She can’t dust the lines away, the mirror never lies,
It reflects the story of her stolen youth
So she exfoliates, scrubs, buys cosmetics
The face she is left with she’s learnt to despise
Her hair is the colour of despair; grey, hardly there
To get out of her head she cleans instead
Cleans until every surface shines, safe in this sterile world
Outside rain is falling like tears, obliterating her reflection
Inside the house is a palace, fit for inspection
She cleans just once more, believing doubts will go away
Tomorrow today’s fears will be returning
So she keeps on cleaning, keeps on dreaming
Ready to battle another weary day
This sad poem is not about a real person but a reflection on the many people who suffer from OCD, especially in these dark days. People look for different ways to deal with stress and poor self image this is just one possible way.