There comes a time in everyone's life,
When procrastination becomes a worn out vice...
To depend on to conveniently use,
By those choosing to remain undecisive.
With every excuse to make to delay what is wished.
And aging has a lot to do with this.
Since a 'sunrise' taken for granted...
Seems to speed quicker towards the 'sunset'.
With a caring less who is left to procrastinate,
In a self indulging mental state of regret.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem