I am seized, haunted and tortured,
Day in and day out,
Though I never believed there are ghosts
that make you freak out.
But then .. what is it?
I am seized, haunted and tortured,
By something that pulls me back,
Whenever I try to gear up
And get back to the track
I wonder… what is it?
I am seized, haunted and tortured,
By a nasty, bothering scoundrel,
Who likes to see me drone and droop,
And stay away from everything that’s real
But I still ponder.. what is it?
I am seized bothered and tortured,
It seems like a hell-hole
How else would it feel,
captured inside your own soul
I’ll go mad … what is it?
Have you felt the same,
Ever in your busy, bustling days,
That your brain churns out ideas,
You can’t put them in place?
If not a ghost.. what else is it?
I am thinking of a name,
Or rather a proper definition
To curse this wretched thing well,
O yes, let’s call it ‘procrastination’.
(-unknown)
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