My soul fell out
It’s on the pavement -
Sprawled, a mess
You see it
And your head is turned.
I want to hide it
But it’s out there
In the open
People tread on it
Still, you stare.
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.
Today I wrote my first ever sonnet while procrastinating :))
— The End —