I slacked. It seemed a decent plan,
A mystical, strategic purge
Of horrid beasts that threaten man.
The victor's hymn becomes a dirge,
The ceiling and the floor converge;
A gelid, pallid fear enthralls
Within Procrastination's walls.
My frantic labors I began.
When finished, my employer calls:
More obligations - and again
I slack. It seems a decent plan.
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