Organizing the desk
on solid wood
if only i
understood

Sorting the papers,
a perpetual mess,
thoughts
my mind
wishes
to confess.

Shredding the confidentials
security measures,
they could never
understand
my secret treasures.

Boxing the pictures
with pain
inside
nonetheless,
the moon moves
along with the tide.

Time is always changing,
looking from
within.
I know the life
I must choose,
But you?
will undoubtably
see it,
a life full of sin.