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

It's as though through letting ideas slip away into nothingness
I've died countless times:
unrealised, unfulfilled, unsatisfied.
Their last scream of agony devoid of substance,
reverberates through me,
Reminding me that
I've neglected to death that which could've filled me.

I sit alone quietly watching,

An ego of sand trickles down
each grain a like on a tweet, a seen video.
Aren't they really smart? The people who make these things?
Promised to make me golden,
And I am, indeed.
Just as cold and saleable as that.

NO no,

I keep trying to claw my way out.
It's taking too long, why isn't it working?
Hands getting weaker?
Nails dulling out?
Or maybe I've never had anything sharp on myself to begin with.

The worst is that I'm not alone in this
And most of you seem content.
Living being made to obey
With grains of dopamine being thrown around
as we dance to catch each in our mouths.
Not much different from these poor animals at the circus.

Let's cut this short.

Aim big and don't expect a praise or prize soon after you start.
People aren't brands and brands aren't people.
Let's learn to enjoy the ride more than the destination.
Good luck, I believe in me,
I believe in you.