To Fix a Procrastinator…

A back–taken aback;
The hand, in perfect time,
Takes its fingers up the spine.

The sluggard’s lazy want for food
Has the vertebrae protrude
Stones–on which to step,
Till icy fingers reach the neck.

The hand–a hand given
Slides its fingers into hair
And curls them tight about what’s there.

The procrastinator’s aversion to work,
Brought to focus as head is jerked—
A body in fearful shake,
Told life’s ambition WILL be slaked.

A neck—annexed to head.
The hand, now out of time,
Imposes sentence on the crime.

A once indolent workshy sloth,
Throttled by a grip of wroth;
Work—it WILL be done…

Before the other kingdom comes

 

Something-more-is-alive-2

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WannabeWriters'Retreat

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Museworthy Man

Typically atypical man from Manchester with aspirations that'll never/maybe/could one day be realisations :-D

7 thoughts on “To Fix a Procrastinator…”

    1. Cheers ears. Appreciate the appreciation, I’ll take it; bled tears and sweated blood creating the place. On a much more important note though: The fact the can is tipped over is irking me now. I want to time travel to then to stand it up!

    1. Well I’ll be an anchored float. It’s a man called Hariod. How do you do…? And, aye, innuendo intendo. But seriously, entity in shed you see, well it came to visit me, clip me round the ear to very necessarily coerce me; rather than pinch my rear and titillate me.

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