I am running away from the work at hand
Into my personal fantasy land
Escaping the tasks this lifetime demands
Eating my cake and biting my hand
Taking away from my very potential
Doubting my drive and making it mental
Not sharing my slacking, it’s confidential
Regret is the measurable differential
I procrastinate when I don’t think it’ll be fun
Walking backwards while chasing the sun
I can’t conquer the selfishness, can’t get it done
Carrying excuses that feel like a ton
So I zig and I zag instead of plodding ahead
Reading the sentence I’ve already read
Taking a tool out of the slovenly shed
And using it masterfully to avoid making my bed
But this never pans out, never gets good
While ambition streaks past me wearing a hood
That says on the back “You know that you could”
Yet I slacken the pace and return where I stood
What if I followed ambition with fervor and zeal?
Chasing after it like an orca does seal,
Realizing my potential, how would that feel?
Instead I ask the mirror “What is the deal”?
The deal is, I answer, "my lazy-bones self"
Wasting time mining fool’s gold instead of real wealth
Then stressing and kicking myself to bad health
Dreaming prosperity but sitting on the shelf
A procrastinator’s tale is bitter and just
I get what I’ve earned and I’ve earned lots of dust
My goals are becoming a genuine bust
Because “I’ll fail me” is the only self-statement I trust
By Royce Waxenfelter
10/1/09
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