To complain of pausing the inevitable
Surely is a complaint of nature
For the transition of day to night
Will forever be delayed.
Never heard are bitter tongues
In spite of the suns lengthy stay
Cursing the selfish rays;
Preventing the moon from showing too soon.
Same could be said of the cycle of seasons,
Following Summer, is never the Spring.
Oh why, do you take such time?
Spring will always be,
So why wait?
As the seed grows to a flower
And minutes turn to hours,
Procrastination is a feature of our lives.
On your terms to accept or deny.