Shadows of Repair

A lamp in the corner, shades shattered,

bulbs flicker like memories long scattered.

Around it, dust gathers in layers thick,

reminders of repairs I still can’t pick.

I tell myself each time, I’ll get to this,

when time permits, when I find the bliss.

But as I sip tea, I know I’ll ignore

the remnants of broken, just leave it once more.