Messing

the room is full of litters
the underwear is on top of the headboard
the shoes are far from each others' gaze
dirty clothes roam like wolves
and the bulb lights are filled with dusts
moths are dead
and mosquitoes reign the nooks
cobwebs look like fog

but i know how to paint
something so orderly in my mind
i take the brush of the brain
and the tints of bright colors
it is not denial
but it is just a matter of choosing
what reality i want
i become blind to all these mess
i only select what i must accept
so you see
my world is as beautiful as yours
i sleep soundly at night
as the ants and the scorpions
make their wars.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!