I Don't Like Lazy Poem by Daniel Chapman

I don't hate people,
but I despise laziness—
hands forever outstretched,
never extended.

They pretend working,
busy masks, empty results.
Like a body on a treadmill,
sprinting in place,
sweat with no destination.

Lazy people don't just stall themselves—
they add weight
to the backs of those climbing.

Laziness isn't born,
it's witnessed.
A child watching comfort become a lifestyle,
watching effort get postponed,
watching "good enough" turn into a ceiling.

Maybe mom sat still—
the lesson stuck.
Maybe dad settled—
and settling became acceptable.

They've never felt the quiet pride
that shows up after exhaustion,
never met the joy
on the other side of discipline.
You can't love the process
if you refuse the journey.

So I grind.
As long as breath fills my chest
and strength answers the call,
I will move forward.

Because generations are watching—
and they will never say
I stood still.