Poetry

Messy & unfinished

Behind the door, a room awaits,
shelves filled with boxes,
perfect lines, neat categories,
everything has a place.

Boxes coded, classified;
no mystery allowed to remain.
A cold precision controls what
is forbidden, what may stay.

Sheltered from the elements,
everything is protected,
locked behind case and key,
safe, but hidden away.

An invitation to open the door,
fresh life blows in.
Boxes lifted, lids removed,
contents spilt and strewn.

Messy.

What comes next?
A frantic effort to regain order?
The rediscovery of forgotten gifts?
Cleaning or living?

The answer is yet to be seen.

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