Plough through this bulky cow
Putting off 'til tomorrow
Then putting off again
Put off until it's at the edge
Then procrastinate some more
And I find myself completing it
While it falls to the floor
Tragic masochistic inexplicable habitual
Each morning begins with "Not today!"
And by night's end "It can wait…"
Why do we do this to ourselves?
Stacking tasks atop the shelves
Burying ourselves in yesterday's chores
We're a slimy bunch of apathy-whores
On this thought I still gnaw
I'm suffering from writer's blah
So many things to complete
Yet still I write this piece
This "put off" contemplation
Helps put off procrastination
The pattern continues
I don't think it can be undone
We endlessly muse
'Til every minute's the last one