Procrastination is a pain,
I cannot afford to let it win again.
I work too hard to be thrown to the ground.
Struggling, helpless, I scream, no sound.
I often think of a town so mellow,
And in this dream I'm a happy fellow.
I do not want perfection,
Only grace, and fine protection.
For, perfection is a substance that can never be attained.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment