twilight dances on my desk
sun rays doing pirouettes
urging me to get up
to do something
anything that’s no less
than an achievement
in and of itself
and yet I ignore
their plea and despite
the proximity
between me and
the inevitable arrival
of Cronus himself
I continue to sit
not mindlessly but
rather aimlessly
watching the sun rays
turn into romanesque
shapes and figures
at the touch of my fingers
and I wonder
about what will happen
if my actions won’t come
with a beaming certificate
for me to put up proudly
on my old and dusty
desk to proclaim
that I, myself,
have meaning