I'm going tripping you know,
Staggering into the bedroom of terror,
Hell on Earth,
I can't feel the floor,
Tumbled over the footwear,
that's left over there.

Fell over those clothes,
strewn under my nose.
Her smelly old slippers, resembling kippers,
Chucked on the floor just inside the door.
I know I shouldn't oughta,
Share my bedroom with my daughter.
We're both messy.
Piles of shoes,
just yesterdays news.
I nag,
she does too,
all over a collection of shoes and clothing,
Being tidy's not my thing!
(C) Livvi