Yellow post-it notes and white pages lie
On my desktop, with pen and mobile phone
The TV remote control lies close by
While speakers sit up like meerkats and scan
The room’s dimensions to its horizon
Unopened packages cry ‘Laziness!’
To my conscience; things that I bought and then
Could not be bothered opening. This mess
Perhaps mirrors my thoughts and dreams. I’m less
Likely to get anywhere like this. I
Must conquer these disorders; I must own
My own desk, my own mind, my own success
As so far I’ve disowned my failure; try
Once more this weekend to clean up, alone
No comments:
Post a Comment