A half-opened pack of toothbrushes
Held close for a rainy day
While SpongeBob smiles inanely
To drive such thoughts away
Rickety books piled high
Knowledge reaching for the sky
I'll never read them but
They hold promises of wisdom
Shirts slumber on the bed
Discards of the morning
Discriminated, disused
But still holding to a form of
Beauty, clean lines, smart curves
A pod of dolphins breaking the confines
Of a sun drenched sea
And I am on a leather chair undecided
Big enough to hide a child in
A man staring at the future
And refusing to blink.