There’s No Nation Like Procrastination

On a dark and rainy morning,

With storm clouds swirling overhead,

I know I should be writing,

But I do anything instead.

I’m the king of procrastination,

Though the title is self-proclaimed,

I’m sure if I took the time to ask them,

My subjects would say the same.

But just now, one lies ‘neath a table,

Chasing rabbits in his sleep,

While one lies beside,

Snoring loud and deep.

They think it’s a great day for loafing,

And wasting away the time,

While thunder plays a symphony,

Rain on a tin roof is sublime.

I’ll force myself to do it,

I’ll peck away here at the keys,

While my mind is gathering wool,

And chasing bird song on the breeze.

Slowly I start typing,

Letter after letter,

Though I’m really not feeling it,

Tomorrow would be better.

My coffee works its magic,

And my eyes seem less blurred,

Letter after letter,

Forms word after word.

Soon I find I’m finished,

With some small elation,

One small step towards creativity,

And away from procrastination.