Work, work, work.
Is there nothing
in this world,
except work?
From an infant,
to a senescent,
everyone’s working.
Except me.
Why amn’t I working?
Let’s see.
I'm lazy.
I'm tired.
I’m sleepy.
I’m bored.
I’m…well,
full of excuses.
And absolutely no excuse
for giving an excuse.
Maybe the law of inertia
Is the only one I heed to.
Or else, why don’t Newton’s
Laws of action
propel me to activity?
Science, Psychology or Philosophy
Are too well explored to expose my mind.
It is still a space needing discovery.
2 comments:
Excellent thought! well it would be nice if you make the poem longer dealing more with "your mind"
Thnx Sadu, but i think making the poem longer kills the beauty of brevity. i believe in compression, not elaboration.
Post a Comment