One’s Own

There is a list

of things

I should be doing,

but none

seem to catch

my interest.

They all scream dishonest 

truths,

some I will do

and others, I will

simply leave to

melt away. 

There is always tomorrow 

or the next,

no hurry,

I mustn’t worry, 

all will be complete.

But one after another,

the words dry out

and leave an aroma 

of regret. 

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