On a lazy Sunday, watching drizzle become rain
I lie about thinking of all the things I have been meaning to do
There was the book I wanted to pick up, about work done in vain;
Write about what irked me – ‘how to pronounce quinoa’ and regressive attitudes too.
There was this recipe I have been meaning to try;
But assume, the ingredients are too exotic to find,
A song inspiring me to procrastinate less was replayed till I saw my plan go awry;
Watched a series so enthusiastically till my interest declined.
I do seem to have been busy, I don’t remember being still;
I am sure I wasn’t twiddling my thumbs all this while.
But as I watch the swaying branch scratch my window sill;
I think I might be misguided by my own guile.
There was a friend, I wanted to stop from becoming an acquaintance;
But was too lazy to write to,
Because life is a series of strangers is my insistence
Watching the drizzle turn to rain is what I do.