Those Who Live in Grass Houses

Procrastinator's Dread

Procrastinator’s Dread

I do not care for future me
who lives somewhere I do not see;
it’s my comfort I nurture now
when irksome tasks do crease my brow.
I put them off and send them on
for future self to slave upon,
and turn my back upon the thought
how hard his days with chores I bought.

But now I fear that some dark day
my future me will go away,
for his resentment grown so vast
had worn his patience down at last;
departed for some Shangri-La,
he sings of freedom on guitar
and I be left with endless tasks,
while he in tropic sunshine basks.


Line count: 16
Rhymed couplets, 8 syllables per line
For Cards Against Authors, Week 1
Prompt Card: You’re afraid of your future self.
Wild Card: Metaphor: Emotional growth as a fragile seed.
Note: Patience grows to resentment.