Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Poem #102

I have too much stuff
I can see it as I sit here
Stacks here and there
Some temporary
Some just careless 
No time, no energy
To straighten and rehome
I don't seem to see
The clutter at night
It is what it is
But with the fresh eye
Of morning
I want the room clear
Spacious, open
Just like I want my day

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