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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #982381
Just a poem about the task of cleaning, or the piling up of a mess.
Cleaning

I sit around in a daze,
as if I had nothing to do.
Is it laziness or content?
Sometimes I am just not sure.
Slowly I do the things
that need to be done.
As I watch it all pile up again.
To have a task complete,
not having to repeat,
would be the ultimate treat.
I guess in my head I knew
when it's done, I just
have to do it again.
So why bother I ask?
Cause if it doesn't get done
the first time, it will take
longer when it's time to
complete the task.
So now I am out of my daze,
and off to do what I can
get done.
And for each time I clean,
it makes it easier to
clean it the next time.
© Copyright 2005 Aura Myst (ladyl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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