The Procrastinator

Be considerate

Cause I procrastinate

Is it a crime?

Because then I won't complain or whine

Wish I could squeeze through

But how, I don't have a clue

Without getting labelled

Despite sitting idle

Work on time

Has never been my rhyme

Walking, running or jogging

Would make things worse, leave nagging

Last week's reading

Still unfinished, Are you kidding?

Spare the rod and spoil the child

I have been spun from a thread of some other kind

Parents laboured hard to bring me in line

Only to end up paying the late admission fine

When I was nine

And a little more sublime

I decided upon becoming a scholar

Time changed so did my ambitions, only I remained the same teetotaler

I have maintained a solitary stand

To never even crawl to the rickshaw stand

I once joined a singing class

But never turned up to hum even with the mass

My routine files

Have all landed in waste piles

Had to complete my board papers

Two years have gone by in figuring out the chapters

When I did turn twenty

I finally wrote something of quality

I am putting up something as rough as this

Does it reveal my catharsis?