Once again the time approaches.
I constantly remind myself,
but I’m convinced that
I’ll get around to it.

What a pitiful game I play;
days rapidly pass
and I find something better to do—
but the future haunts me,
it’s coming.

I’m pretty sure that I’ll finish before it’s due.
But until then, I postpone my efforts;
wasting every precious moment that passes,
filing down productivity with the finger nails
I have now painted twice.

As it rounds the corner,
I try to ignore its intimidating glare,
reassuring myself with more excuses—
You still have time.

Hours before: scurrying
to paste the whirlwind of thoughts together on
disheveled scraps of paper.
Spinning in confusion from the nonsense
that I must put my name to.

Finally,
it’s done. It’s over.
But a new assignment grins
from the desk below,
and I know that I will suffer
again.