As I dreadfully clean my room
I eventually need a broom
I find papers and drawings
That were never finished
They were meant to be trash
But instead they ended up stashed
Away I hoped forever
Until I find them again

As I dreadfully make my bed
It's easier done than said honestly
The pillows get thrown in the floor
The sheets get thrown out the door

I do dishes
I make them clean
But they are never
what they seem
For little specks
Little particles of food stay
And cling on

Cleaning maybe boring
And it maybe dreadful
But without cleaning
Where would we be
In a pile of clothes
Or maybe trash

But we forever
Need to always
Clean