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Rated: E · Poetry · Entertainment · #1313452
Poem written in a fit of procrastination from an essay I should have been writing
No Motivation

Deadline approaching.
Nothing done.
The clock ticks on the mantelpiece;
Seconds pass by, turn to hours;
Hours turning, fading, lost. Wasted.

There’s still time, until time fades;
panic builds, stress sets in. Striving, struggling
Make words form on the page. No motivation.
Struggling within. Yet nothing without.
There is nothing without motivation,
And I have none. Lost. Wasted.

So hard to convert idleness
To inspiration; apathy
To effort. Hard work; I hear drudgery,
Chore, grind. No motivation.

Own worst enemy won’t let me work,
Myself and laziness, hand-in hand – best friends,
My downfall. Hard work
Doesn’t have to hurt. No pain
No gain? My pain, whose gain? No pain,
Because I’m sitting still. Still sitting, not moving.
Thoughts working, hands resting.
Can’t hand in thoughts;
No paper. No outlet. No order.
Failure guaranteed. Trouble.
Troubled mind. No motivation.

Clock ticks on the mantelpiece;
Days pass. Sitting. Still. No motivation.
Thoughts working. Hands resting.
Nothing done.
Deadline passed.
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