LYRIC

The procrastinator
It's far too easy to hide behind
Abundant distractions and
Coyly whittle away at the hours
With hollow preamble these days
Trade one uphill battle for another
Old injuries strain deep

Am I alone?
This is my black hole

The procrastinator
It's far too easy to hide behind
Abundant distractions and
Coyly whittle away at the hours
With hollow preamble these days
Trade one uphill battle for another
Old injuries strain deep

As my hunched shoulders and neck, slightly askew
Peer forth, awaiting just one word
A solitary notification, is someone there?
Tongue to teeth, feet curled beneath

Feet curled beneath

A finely crafted adjustable chair
Time seemingly irrelevant
I am lost to possibility
Equally terrified and delighted

Figure your life out

Am I alone?
This is my black hole

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