Agenda

A scatterbrained mess, I find

hidden by meticulous neatness, complete organization.

The only way to be able to unwind,

to feel safe, is to know that everything

is taken care of.

To nothing do I commit

without consulting its all-knowing pages.

Its input, I will not omit,

without forgetting some important occasion,

completely overextending myself.

Its pages are a bible

to whose words I strictly do adhere

with a memory as unreliable

as I am cursed with

only there can I trust every thought.

How am I to recall every minute detail?

It, with its carefully notated times, is my security blanket,

of which I myself do avail.

Its calming facts quickly remind

this is how I should spend my time.

Leaving no choice

which of course, I do not want,

in it's strictness, I rejoice

It's constancy, the order it provides

Is the calmness in the storm of my life.