Depressed beyond words, I decide to clean up my life,
I look into myself, and look at all that needs cleaning,
The sorrows, the breakups, the anger, the hatreds, my whole life,
Stands in need of a good whitewash and some forgetting.
The anger, the hatred, that redden the walls around me,
Need just some painting to blend in and begin anew,
But what of those breakups that will just not let me be,
The sticky grime of sorrows, will it ever let me subdue.
Those are but splashes, that with effort can be cleaned,
And will appear as if they have forever gleamed,
But, what of the love, splashed all across the floor,
So much so, it even overflows beneath the door.
It neither flows nor stagnates, yet leaves a stain,
One that has been relegated, for eternity to remain,
It meanders not, and endears itself to everything in touch,
It fills itself, in every corner, yet no amount is too much.
It needs a strong will to forget it, and move over,
And time I had heard, was the greatest stain remover,
That it could flush the sorrows out of the deepest recess,
And even cleanse the emotions that one cannot access.
Yet I found it ineffective against love, that merely faded,
Which gave it even more appeal, one that was jaded,
It poured itself through the cracks in the shaky ground,
And ingrained itself within, where no senses abound.
Time found itself incapable, though not for the first time,
Because stubborn love, had flooded it into a grave sublime,
My exercise was in vain, for I just couldn’t cleanse myself,
From the remains of God’s greatest stain, HIMSELF.