"I love you (this wall is red)"

The walls of my room are covered with drawings and writings from my friends and anyone who comes in. this poem is about the good and bad that litter the walls.

The six walls of my room, count them yes six, are all

Inscribed with pastel and ink. each surface is lined

by drunk thoughts from friends and the nonsense

by some; the walls could not defend.

On the ceiling too, and on walls covered up,

are the drawings of those, blessed without any luck.

Covered by posters in a sporadic fashion,
I hate a few things of these walls with a passion.
obscene questions and daft thoughts revealed,

I happily cover up with paintings of fields.
But In and amongst, a few gems will gleam,
scerics of love, jotted with pinks and greens.
Plus a signature fiasco beyond your wildest dreams.
The vehicle of sincerity is pencil and pastel
and to scrub off the words is a silly old hassle.
So the words and crude pictures remain on display

From august last year, up to this very bright day.

3/9/13 - m . Young

Author's Note

is it clear and understandable?