deepundergroundpoetry.com
Messy Room
I can always tell the state of one’s mind
By the type of room they keep.
Is there clutter galore?
Clothes thrown on the floor?
Their thoughts must be in a heap.
Are there dishes with mold,
Like secrets untold,
Sitting high upon a shelf?
Is there trash everywhere?
Not giving a care
About nothing;
Not even oneself.
A room.
A mind.
Are two of a kind.
A place to store endless things,
But we must decide
What we store inside;
To feel the peace a clear room can bring.
By the type of room they keep.
Is there clutter galore?
Clothes thrown on the floor?
Their thoughts must be in a heap.
Are there dishes with mold,
Like secrets untold,
Sitting high upon a shelf?
Is there trash everywhere?
Not giving a care
About nothing;
Not even oneself.
A room.
A mind.
Are two of a kind.
A place to store endless things,
But we must decide
What we store inside;
To feel the peace a clear room can bring.
Published 5th Feb 2022
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1
reading list entries 1
comments 0
reads 394
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
