The room is neat,
Everything has its place,
But my mind is cluttered,
Can't you see it in my face?
All my thoughts,
Are jumbled in my mind,
The room is so tidy,
Everything I can find.
Inside my head,
Troubled water rages,
My agendas on the desk,
I flick through its pages.
I take that book,
That dictates my life,
Its many scrawled appointments,
Give me so much strife.
I throw it hard,
Across the room,
It feels so good,
Like release from a tomb.
I take each thing,
Scatter them around,
Now I am certain,
Not a thing may be found.
But my mind is free,
The waters are still,
The clutter is out,
Unbroken is my will.
My will to survive,
This tough rat race,
I shall take it easy,
Go at a snail's pace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This very original poem has my applause!