The Closet Gets A New Face Poem by Theresa Ann Moore

Painting a closet seems to be a small chore
Hung clothes are detached and heaped on the bed
Labeled cardboard boxes are stacked on the floor
An intense urge says… put everything back instead

Seasonal decorations resurface and directly remind
Along with gifts bought and stored some time ago
Old family photos with ageless smiles bring to mind
Memories that reluctantly fade as sadness lets go

An inward push reinforces preplanned determination
There is no turning back…I must go forward, not stop…
Plod through the massive amount of accumulation
Time for a breather and have a snack before I drop

Immobile forces stand in ranks, giving me a stare
Where is the drive that ignited ambition buried now?
Once again take the plunge, until the space is bare
Finally the hoard of stuff is cleared out… somehow

Years of collecting overwhelm creating a mutiny
Where will treasures go, after they are dethroned?
Select cherished possessions will survive scrutiny
Many items of value will be sent to new homes

Standing in the vault of time; empty space gapes
Dingy walls close in with an imposing attitude
Dark stained wood trim is masked off with tape
Fresh white paint cloaks the brush with fortitude

One coat of pristine cover will not satisfy this plight
Thoughts of purpose begin to tire and suffocate
Stretching arms reach for darkened ceiling heights
Only visions of completion improve my mental state