If thinking was an art,
I would be its master,
But always thinking,
never doing
is a recipe for disaster.
Gazing so intently
as time keeps slipping by,
One might think I'm working hard,
though truly I don’t try.
Studying it closely
and dreaming of the day,
When all these half-done projects
will finally earn fair pay.
Malevolent are the hands of time,
always ticking fast,
It seems the days grow shorter
as the weeks go rushing past.
Today will be the day
when procrastination ends,
When focus finds its footing
and scattered thought descends.
No more delays or empty plans
lost in hesitation,
I’ll trade this weary cycle
for real determination.
I will leave you with this final thought
of real cunctation.
And once again I'll pause a moment
in midst of my narration.
Even with the best intentions
or hail by adoration.
One must always realise
their continued limitations.
By
Rory Duffy