Original poetry by Etomby Namme
Sometimes it seems the more work you have to do… the less you do.
DEVIL Thy name is PROCRASTINATION.
E.ve.ry time, you snare me.
Constantly, I’m falling,
for your foolish stalling.
Your delay…
is always
ALWAYS in my way.
Your deferment
sees me falling.
Lost in the deep expanse of this gorgeous firmament.
My room shines,
my dishes gleam,
everything is done
but my work, it would seem.
I’ve learnt those lyrics,
memorised the whole song.
Now I’m writing this poem.
Oh this is sooo WRONG!
You trap me with your wily ways,
sneaking up on me,
slowing my progression,
every hour of all my days.
Your deceit engulfs me.
Leads me to believe
these side jobs take precedence.
My distraction, you always achieve.
And I like a fool I feed your fire.
I sharpen your tool.
With every stray thought,
this situation gets dire.
Every deed and task,
every useless list that I write,
I move further away
and the end is nowhere in sight.
Release me, you fiend!
For this is not my lot.
I’m greater than this.
Stronger adversaries I have fought.
But the great tragedy lies
in the fact that your lies
lead me to believe that I’m wise
to your wicked ways and above them I’ll rise.
So in my complacency you hide.
This self-made roller coaster, you ride.
Simply wading in like a gentle tide,
while quietly eroding my progressive stride.
Oh wise one, to the old advice you abide.
“Keep your friends close”
but your enemies stuck to your side.
So like a leach you stick.
Until I’m fooled into thinking,
you won’t prick.
You’re so close I think you a friend.
But no helping hand, would you ever dare lend.
This friendship is over you wicked brute,
for I’ve found you out, now I’m giving you the boot.
Devil be gone
for this won’t carry on.
I know your name now,
it’s Procrastination.
Etomby Namme is a second year medical student at HYMS and an amateur poet and baker… when she’s not busy procrastinating.
