Untitled - A rarity

I find it honorable to say,
However pride may sadly lack,
That me desk is like the month of May,
Comf’table but not exact.

You see, loved one, it is a mess,
But like a homeless gentleman,
It once knew life of finest dress,
The color of it cinnamon.

It may frighten me to think upon,
Its chaos is because of me,
I may’ve been lazy as the years have gone,
Synonymous with life it be?

Years ago I found it true,
That desks and lives should be neat,
In anger said I, back then, to you,
Now keep your clutter quite discreet!

But in Winter time, the children came,
Armed with little hands of joy,
My desk, loved one, was not the same,
I learned that it was but a toy.