Time and tasks spewing a chaotic riddle,
A pen in hand and papers to fill, all I wish to do is to carelessly fiddle.
Pushing oneself to be productive,
When all one longs to do is aimlessly diddle.
A blitzkrieg of voices, shouting advice and instructions,
a train running out of fuel trying to stop at all junctions.
An absolute mess of a man who procrastinated,
now attempting to carry out an entangled mix of functions.
Frustrated, exhausted, left furibund by uninvited comments of hate,
Disappointed in destiny and cursing my fate.
Then I stumble across a photo frame,
Getting lost on the memory lane ignoring all that I have on my plate.
The photo before me of a sweet day gone by,
Ignites colours, tastes and smells of that time, watering my heart which had run dry.
Echoes of laughter and joy, it is euphoria in existence!
With wings of memories in my own little utopia I fly.
From the big bad world I take a brief departure,
The memory of that day, each ray of sunlight on each leaf, as accurate as the shot of an archer.
Eyes well up as I think of the time with my people, some now far away,
Each of my friend's little jokes in the long school lecture.
I think of holidays, trips and good times with good people, I hear the bells of peace chime,
All I spent on making memories for my escape, was worth every dime.
I snap back to reality, which is bitter whether you like it or not,
I shall dive in those thoughts again, perhaps some other time....
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