“Stinky socks” yells mother
“as usual !…here under your bed”
“Filthy knickers also”
Screams Mum, now shaking her head “Clean this bedroom NOW”
she yells
and I block my poor sensitive ears
The voice of a fog horn
is blaring
the whole darn street now hears

I grab the dirty laundry
and bundle it up tight
Stick it in the cupboard
out of Mothers sight

I smell a kind’a odour
like lavender in bloom
oh no! she used the freshener
and ruined my smelly room

I hate it when Mothers
stick their noses in
It’s my space although small
If I want it to smell of
my stinky old socks
it’s my right after all