Messy Corners
A poem
we leave our messes in the corner;
gathering dust and dirt
in a heaping pile in the bedroom
that builds up day after day
a discard pile that doesn’t get picked up by the garbage man
we avoid it at all costs
the grime and grease too messy to be cleaned
the stagnation breeds destruction
we avoid our messes and find blame
in everyone coming in our path
the resentment grows and weariness thickens
fatigue overpowering our will to ever clean it
every battle lost and sacrifice made
every broken promise and effort shut down
adding onto the growing pile
we pass on the job to someone else
make it another’s problem
but the dust becomes suffocating
the dirt too repulsive to look at
and so it lies there
day by day
because cleaning up our mess would mean
rediscovering parts of ourselves
we should have discarded
ages and ages ago
