A box full of postcards and sticky notes

There is this box in my room

on my work table full of blank postcards and sticky notes.

Whenever I sit on the chair near that table I feel like Writing letters to everyone regarding their place in my life. I feel like

putting all those sticky notes all over my room Not to remind things to me but to write all the good words that come to my mind So, I can use them in my poems whenever I want.

I really feel like doing this.

But the heap of files Kept in front of that box Liquidate my desire Every time.

And there is this box in my room Full of blank postcards and sticky notes Stays there, as it is.