Do I write because I've things to say,
or things I don't want to do?
Is sitting here typing away,
a decoy for the blues?

I know there's things long overdue,
but there's nothing that cannot wait.
Could it be though that my poetry,
is just a way to procrastinate?

I have stuff to put away and sort,
and things to be thrown out.
But I'd really rather sit and write,
of that there is no doubt.

Perhaps I should accept the fact,
and get somebody in,
who's not attached to all my crap,
who can throw it in the bin.

And then I will be free to write,
my conscience will be clear.
If only I could find my pad,
I'm sure I left it here...
somewhere...