In the quiet hum of a diligent day,
Tasks piled high like clouds of gray,
A list unfurled, a daunting sight,
Each scribbled line a call to fight.

With coffee steam and hopeful gaze,
I summoned strength to break the haze,
One by one, I crossed them out,
Each fleeting task, I’d cheer and shout.

A corner turned, a rhythm found,
As though I danced on solid ground,
The hours stitched in threads of toil,
Turning chaos into soil.

From scribbled thoughts to polished...