why do we still do it
when we know nothing good comes out of it?

you should do it now
but i don't want toooooooo
get it over with
i'll do it laterrrrrrrrr
don't push it back another hour, another day
i'll find time to do ittttttttt

and eventually, we all just become addicted to it
and those who can quit by themselves,
are the ones who are truly talented.

Ill save you for when I get back
Monsterous potential for now I lack
But maybe just a little scratch
Of this bug bite so I can relax

No, it only makes it worse
A hot spoon on my skin could take the curse
Or maybe if I rid the flesh as well as sin
Give it up for the mess I'm in

Like God, I give and take
To myself, this creative stake
But block these things that must align
So I can stay within the lines

When the reasons seem so empty
and expectations seem so grand
it is hard to find the courage
to satisfy demand

When the beck and call is silent
and the path before is gone
it is too much to just continue
although I know I must go on

All along I have been searching
an easy way to have it all
never trying just to do it
too afraid that I would fall

And now as I grow older
My time is running out
and if I do not do it now
than I will have to do without.

I can't seem to make up my mind
whether to go to sleep
or write a line
I take so long to make a move
I tend to grind into a groove.

I make a choice
but, do not act.
I use my voice, but let it crack.
I know what to do, but I do not
and so, I always seem to miss my shot.

Procrastination, Indecision, Laziness and Pride
Together, they conspire
to keep me down
and locked inside.

I have come close so many times.
I tell myself I'll see it through.
But, then in the fury of the moment
I always seem to miss my cue.

But, it isn't timing
or dependence
that keeps me waiting for someday.
Its the knowing I can do it
If I could
just get on my way.

math test in three hours
don't know math, but what a great
time for some haiku poetry

Its about suffering
Its about sobbing
Its about repenting
Its about cherishing
Its about the moon
Its about the smell after it has rained
after not raining for centuries
Its about the first step
towards the last
Its about the child
who grew up too fast
Its because it wasn't mine
Its because there wasn't time
Its because the alarm never went off
Its because there wasn't a clock
Its not my fault
It wasn't me
It was because I was waiting
for the right key