Procrastination is the death of productivity.
It roams in my subconscious and preys on my
time like a vulture.
Lack of volition takes hold – thoughts are
refracted, patience turns into resignation.
Rendering me indolent, manacled to scaled
visions of tomorrow.
Decisions fraught within my head, plans come
My inactivity breeds stagnation as i watch from
Lazily waiting for something magical to happen
or someone to show me the way.
I fritter and deplete hours in an offhand way.
Postpone love’s embrace with “some day” and
prolong projects with “maybe tomorrow”.
Time is nothing but a cheating mistress wearing
a lacy lingerie of indolence that out-rightly screams
I hover in the sky- waiting to elope my mind and
body together in order to free myself from the
chains of procrastination and embrace the winds
Success doesn’t come easy.
Today, I write.