Life

    It's not recyclable

       Winds of beauty waft by your senses

          Ignoring God's poems and artistry

Cultured you may not be

      Unrefined and raw

As you read this

  Mouth corners curl up

         Smirk on face

               Who is he to assert?

  No one really

        Just an artist like Him

               Procrastinate if you must

One day there will be no need

      To procrastinate

             Your time will be done

The birds will still sing the most serene morning serenade

          The moon will still bathe in hues that one has trouble putting into words

                The sky will appear to be washed in water color upon an artist's easel

And you....

          No more smirking as if you know or knew better

                Nope....

Just another dead soul wasting and rotting away....

            Opportunities now gone

But -

     No longer procrastinating.