Like little Alice, who chased the rabbit in dreamland's mists,
I wander in the realm of procrastination, where idleness persists.
Here time flows endless, and my tasks are little and few,
And I revel in excuses, lost in my idle hue.

Although Alice found a key to unlock her way,
And ventured beyond her imagination as she did stray,
I chose emptiness, slipping through time like sand,
Descending into the chasm of dreams, searching for yonderland.

I often walk away from conversations to shift and to change,
Should I feel panic or guilt, or let my thoughts rearrange,
And wake up to the present, seeking rewarding adventure,
Thriving in reality, no longer in procrastination's rapture.

By Jophin Kulangara
© 31-March-2023