Hoarder Blues
All these possessions stacked everywhere.
It is almost more than I can bare.
There is books, mail, magazines, & junk.
About ten times more than can fit in a trunk.
Just narrow pathways to walk around.
“This can’t be real”, I say with a frown.
“Is there no room out in back?”
I take a look, & almost fall flat.
The entire house is over flowing.
Even in front & back, it’s growing.
There are no chairs for visitors to sit.
They wouldn’t, if they had any wit.
There is a name for such a disease.
It’s called hoarding, if you please.
Usually such a person is in great denial.
I only say that with a covered smile.
It is a problem almost impossible to deal with.
People say “why put up with it?” You’re a twit.”
Pappy always told me; he never wrote.
“You can’t train a dog by killing the goat.”
Think on that as I move on.
Someday I wish it would all be gone.
But, things happen in their own time.
It’s God’s time, it’s not mine.
Other things are going good.
I have to treat her like I should.
The answer is somewhere down the line.
It is only a matter of ‘God’s’ time.
——————————————R. W. Johnson—–(2014)