Looking at my desk
I can see
All manner of mess
In front of me.
There's glue and paper,
Scissors and string,
Hand cream and a camera,
And one ear-ring!
Papers piled high,
A lamp at each side,
A bottle full of juice,
I should take more pride.
I'd like it to be tidy,
But chaos always reigns,
Probably because
I have very muddled brains.
My desk resembles
The tangle in my head,
But it can't be altered
So there's order instead.
Many of my friends
Think in straight lines,
They make me feel crazy,
I can see the signs.
Madness and confusion
That's what I represent,
My desk's in a muddle
But I'm not discontent.
That jumble is me,
It's the way I have been made,
If untidy is in fashion,
I can reach top grade.
So...
Looking at my desk
There will always be,
All manner of mess
In front of me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem