The real battle, actually has no views
Everyone startle; battlegrounds are no revues
It's hard to separate, when unseen or hidden
Battle of my thoughts, a fight within

I built a mansion, but I'm yet to move in
I built a jet for auction, but it's yet to move me
I'm a volcano, with no eruption
All end in the war within; ending in an option

To do it now, or some other time
Verb is no noun, i never made my action prime
The Battle is disastrous, it leaves my goals in shipwreck
Strolling now or later, I lose the ambitions in a cheap trek

Later is always the war victor, but it's grave
Never again will I take the tour; just doing it - is save
Tomorrow is another day, but it's a bait that annihilate
I will do it later; But I'm late now or I'm now late

- Pastorlee

O timeless sloth, I must with thee abide,
Let it be not to my own destruction.
Another life from me thou must divide,
Say to me t’was of mine own instruction!

I cling desperately to thine branches
I must weather the slings and arrows of
Most untimely sharp commands, and blanches
At my staunch resoluteness thereof.

Cease! Cease! See not the moss amongst my hairs,
Nor my talon-like nails, still, motionless.
Judge not, entwined as thou art in bland affairs
In your gray monuments to boastfulness

For nothing is equal to nothing.
To mime futile work is all but bluffing.

Let me find time

to come together again

but it’s no use

with this paper thin mind,

so help me erase

the pressures of these rhymes

And we can fall together

to the sin of my crimes

The alarm blasts me awake
From a fitful night’s sleep,
Another day of bills to pay
And promises to keep.
Dropping Patanol in my eyes
As I attempt to slowly rise,
Feeling distinct deja vus
As my morning coffee brews.

And I make a mental note
To try and get more sleep
Then just as quickly forget
As I leave the room to eat.


Sitting at the breakfast table
Where I find that I am able,
To spend a few, quick minutes,
And rummage through the obits.
Is there someone I know?
And then right before I go,
Count how many are my age
Before I put down the page.

And I make a mental note
To eat less and workout more
Then just as quickly forget
As I rush out the door.


I arrive at my job.
Turn my office doorknob,
Begin my daily routine
Taking breaks in between.
And my boss storms in mad
Says “You did something bad!”

And I make a mental note
To do better next time
Then just as quickly forget
When I leave at closing time.


Returning home feeling famished
I notice some damage
To the roof and the doors
And the siding and floors.
And the gutters are hanging
And the shutters are banging.

And I make a mental note
To make time for repairs.
Then just as quickly forget
As I climb the porch stairs.


I finally make it inside
And after eating decide
To relax in the den
Before my favorite show begins
Then I notice God’s Word
On the table undisturbed.

And I make a mental note
To take time to read God’s Word. . .

Hey, wait!  I can do this now!

So, I open up God’s Word
“faith follows the thing heard”
And I understand the hope
That allows us all to cope

And I make a mental note
To read, meditate and pray.
The Holy Bible gives us courage
So we can face another day!

I wait
I sit and wait
Nothing
Nothing comes
Nothing goes
Empty and alone
I still wait
I still sit and wait
Still nothing
Still nothing comes
Still nothing goes
Still empty and alone

I don’t have the capacity,
the time or the motivation,
So what am I to do?

I like the comfort of familiarity
and routine, but i also want new,
So what am I to do?

Excuses, excuses, excuses
They materialise like bruises
They come and go
Like flakes of snow

Tossing , turning in my sleep
And still the answer to my question
Has yet to emerge from the deep,
Maybe it’s because it’s not truly what I seek.

What I seek are in fact
Excuses, excuses, and more excuses
So what am I to do?

I sit here....
I      sit      here...
I                 sit               here...
Procrastinating
p
   r
     o
       c
         r
           a
             s
               t
                 i
                   n
                     a
                       t
                         i
                           n
                              g
until one day, I................................................................­.......................die
having done absolutely  N.   O.    T.    H.    I.    N.   G.
and I regret <dfihbadflhbfihrefbiuwfiuhfihifiufiwief> everything.






Wasting
Every
Minute

The weird thing with boredom
Is that it always only occurs
When one has quite a lot
Of actual things things to do.

Like right now,
I am writing
Maybe getting a couple of likes
When I should be studying
So I don’t get a grade
That makes me go “Yikes!”

Like right now I feel deprived
Of things to do,
I think it’s cause one gets easily bored
With what’s right in front of you.

it's just another raincheck
just another delay
waiting for sunny days
it's just another raincheck
till the clouds go away
but they always seem to stay

how much longer can i wait
how much longer can you stay
another day is just another way
to say i'm not here today
missing out on what matters
just in case a storm gathers

i can't get out of here
until the weather's clear
an endless loop of waiting
being cooped up, delaying
nothing's ever changing
and it's still raining