Disorder

Papers are missing, memories are lost
Files are misplaced, and there was something else I forgot.

Emotions are piled up,
The cabinets over-flow
My migraine is building up
I can feel the tension grow

The chaos is everywhere
Disorganized, unorgnaized, does it matter?
The filth is spreading at bubonic speed
My past and future are catching up to each other

If you're going to insist on being sorry for yourself
Or if you insist on replacing me with your guilty conscience
Know that I will not, cannot carry this weight
So clean up this mess...before it's too late.