Doing Homework On Sundays (Make that a negative)

It's a day gone by

With the stench of waste

With all that time

That has been erased

So much to do

And yet you rot away

Glancing at the empty page

Filled with your decaying creative delays

...

There's nothing to write

When you aren't interested

But the words you must find

However limited

Just hand something in

If it tastes bitter, it's sin

but even that is better

Then blatant procrastination

...

And yet here I am

Doing just that

I should be writing my essay

But alas, I waste away

Mercilessly drowning myself in

Meaningless words and

Letting time slip by because

Sundays never go as planned