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