On Laziness

When you let the pen rust

(Time's passage holding just

The fragile pen's rusted cast

From an anonymous whiff's destroying lust),

It is then that you realize

How time tricks. It flies

Never to come back. Your Cries,

Regrets and -- hope not -- Shame survive
You.

It is then, you lazy fool,

Will see the pen in glittering glory

Like the mirage quenching the thirsty.

Cry not then, doesn't look good.