I learned from my brother the art of procrastination
His feel good Fridays
His satisfied Saturdays
Both had been eradicated of homework at an early age for him
For the time being
Life was good
Care-free
Simple
Truly bliss in ignorance

Then came Sunday
Sickening Sunday that held within, the impending malady of Monday
By then, homework was a mountain
Taunting my brother
Like any climber, he ignored the enormity and attacked the base, using his heart to power him
Like gas fueling an engine
Pistons pumping as he thundered up the mountain
Then came time my bedtime
The stairs pulled me away as I watched the fight
He had only made basecamp
Thousands of feet left to climb
Up
Up
Up
Into the cold
Dry
Air
Hope was lost in the fog

Sleep finally forced my eyes shut
My dreams filled themselves with my brother’s conundrum
Morning pushed away the darkness
Judgment day had come
Terror descended like the guillotine
Inches from my brother’s neck
I slumbered down the stairs
Yet, what I saw sparked pure astonishment
The mountain had vanished
Rest had gotten its chance to recharge my brother
How?
Age would hand me the answer
I learned from my brother:
Procrastination is perfect with perseverance