Procrastination Is Terrible for You

Seconds like hours, minutes like days, hours like weeks.
I watch life scroll on like an old withered film strip
lined with dirt. My bones ache. They creak. I'm weak
in mind, body and lack-of spirit. What a wearying trip.
I could've done it a long time ago when hope was justified
and there were treasures to be found in the most frightening places
but I cringed and flinched and hid my fear or at least tried
and cowered like a coward and ignored the faces
of those that succeeded. Those that reached out and grabbed
every chance at love and joy. Those that fought for what mattered.
Meanwhile I wrapped myself in the strata of empty things, it's so sad.
Too late now to salvage a fragment of real. My heart is cooled, shattered, scattered
before me like a beloved piece of art forgotten, its value unknown.
I look through narrowed eyes at the blurred remanants and think,
Pity.

Reap what you sow

Keep pushing me
'Til my patience breaks.
Keep pushing me.
See how long it takes
'Til the reaper reaps
His grim rewards
Of your harsh actions
And cruel words.

Futility

I built my castle wide and tall.
I didn't see the waves coming.
I sighed and cried and watched it fall.
So it was all for nothing.