Let me be very clear with you: nothing good has ever come out of anyone writing poetry, in their room or anywhere else.
You know that greasy haired monkey that fills your car up with petrol every week? Poet. In fact, he probably wrote a poem about filling up your car with petrol. I'd guess it went something like:
Petrol goes in the car
Now the car can go far
My life is devoid of hope
I should hang myself with rope
Do you see? I just made that up off the top of my head, there is absolutely no talent required for this sort of thing.
You will need to work fast to save your son. Start by taking away all his writing instruments: paper, pens, pencils, computer, everything.
If after this he begins to go out with his mates, follow him. When he inevitably arrives at a coffee shop or library, confront him. Yell, cry, whatever is needed - public humiliation is a fantastic motivator.
If he rebels and moves out of the house, well that makes things easier for you: children are so much easier to disown once they're no longer under your roof.
Oh, another letter has just arrived, let's have a peek:
My husband has been working a lot of overtime recently and I am growing concerned. He gets home very late, often freshly showered - he says he wants to get the 'work stink' out of him before getting in the car to come home but I worry he's not being entirely forthright.
I'll read you my reply: