The lazy man writes

Sure tomorrow is coming and uncharted

but it doesn’t allow for my damaged willpower.

At least, when it comes to these sagging bones,

it is aware but just can’t bother to tell.

 

Sure I plan to do as many things as are possible

but this body will not have anything to do with that.

Then I slump down with this shapeless couch

where we can break all of our promises together

 

I’m at home alone, away from those

who would test my vows repeatedly,

who would attempt to program me

into doing something useful with my time.

 

My failures once kept me awake but no longer do.

What they lack in quality, they gain in overall climate.

So sleep has become this dry run for death.

It is totally worthless as a source for new dreams.

 

I had such great plans when I was young.

I was going to be an astronaut and a movie star.

I grew up at a time when anything was possible.

It’s a great relief that now nothing is.

 

By John Grey

 

 

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