Procrastination Poem by Frank DeFulgentis

take what i say
with no promise
it will ever
come true
hope is an
infection
expect nothing
less than
an idle mind

what if
reality is a
distraction
and delaying
of gratification
is the real
procrastination
the only sin
is wasted time

i want to explore
each detour
feel each contour
get lost in
the subplot more
life is nothing
short of fiction
the fantasy that is
missing when
we solve for the x
such a
complex deflection
needs a master
of misdirection

written by Frank DeFulgentis

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