A Mess On the Table
Around the Laptop
On my table
As if garbage dump
That is useful to me
As a worm in it
Opened and a half or a few page read books
Written notes never completed
As if a lunatic asylum
Without treatments
Left side and right side
The things my hands easily catch
Behind and under
Perhaps to be used
It is a picture of a writing table
An uncombed head that is
Always scratched
Not allow to make arrange
As my order becomes into a disorder
Untidy is the tidy in my head of beauty
That is to be harvested
As a baby to be given a birth
It is not job of difficult
To clean and arrange
Difficulty is to keep continue
My mess up dream
Until the time of ripen
When the time comes
Beauty will be born
It was in my mind and
The harvest of my dream
It has not exact time
To grow up and to bear
As you request and expect
Some crops which are harvested
Not a value and a good price
Like a poem, a short paragraph
A word of seed
To be planted in a day
When the field is fertile
Until then, my table is dirty
With my mind
In that I am a beggar and a worm
Living in a poor and ugly hut
Having a scanty meals
Udaya R. Tennakoon
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