The paint is peeling on the gate,
The hinges creak at quite a rate,
I watch the rust form patterns new,
While scrolling through my feed times two—
I'm killing time.
My thesis sits in folder deep,
While YouTube videos I reap,
"How pandas sneeze" leads somehow to
"Why ancient aliens might be true"—
I'm killing time.
The Christmas lights from '92
Still dangle, though December's through,
February's almost done,
But taking them down's no fun—
I'm killing time.
The car needs washing, that is true,
The birds have left their point of view,
I study patterns they create,
While planning when to renovate—
I'm killing time.
The attic holds some mystery box
From three house moves ago (it mocks),
I'll label it... someday, perhaps,
When motivation overlaps—
I'm killing time.
The printer blinks its warning light,
New cartridge needed, such a plight,
I'll stick to handwriting until
The ink runs dry... and longer still—
I'm killing time.
My neighbour’s cat sits on my chair,
I dare not move or break our stare,
This stand-off’s lasted half the day,
But who am I to look away?
I'm killing time.
The clock ticks back with stern rebuke,
"Each minute slain's a death unique,"
But wisdom falls on busy ears,
As down the rabbit hole of years—
Time's killing me.