Crumpled

I cleaned my room for diwali and wrote this...

Crumpled up sheets of paper
A heap of mess, in a corner
Where the dustbin used to be.
They did not make to where they should be.

Some notes, some words written
Some illegible marks of pen
Now faded and worn with time.
They used to be a part of dreams of mine.

A blank sheet kept somwhere
Taken out and spread with care
A pen, some words, a new note
Another piece of rhyme on which to dote

A morning, the sun, a day
The blank sheet, "Today"
Myself, my time, my day
That, which'll be tommorrw, kept away.

I guess time is a recurring theme.