The Mad Man by My Door

My mind is a mismanaged room.
I try so hard to keep it
clean and organized
- free from the dust of the past.
But Sadness,
like a mad garbage man,
always finds his way of messing it up.
He likes leaving my books
open on the floor after reading them.

Sometimes when I got home from work,
I find my dirty shirts all over my bed.
I pity them.
I know they’re the ones who receive
his frustrations when he loses his temper.

Last night,
a few minutes before Sleep
commanded me to start counting sheep,
he discreetly placed candy wrappers on my bed.
How do I sleep with pain crawling softly on my skin?

This morning,
I saw Sadness resting by my bedroom door.
I bet he’s drunk.
Weak as he seems,
I know he is never tired.
He’ll have another reason
to crawl back into my room
and conquer my mind.

I wonder when will he truly leave.