I see thoughts scattered on my desk,
By the window on the crest.
I see memories pasted on the wall,
Along with memos and notices from them all.
I see colors making their way,
To the papers crumbling away.
I see the black ink blotted today,
From last years accident, but the scars remain.
I see my desk will its way,
To beckon me to come,
and write my way.