The Time that you carelessly trampled on for so long
Gets back to you now and you will have to plan and
Replan and plan again to merely decide what you’re going to do.
Remember all the victims of your boring talks and you’ll
Get to know now how they all had felt.
Think of the miserable, with nothing to do and if
You want to kill them, hurl on them a holiday or two.
Their spirit will die a torturous death
And they’ll writhe and moan and groan and fret.
They’ll spend time on thinking how and when and
What and where and at the end of the holidays
They’ll carry the albatross of their yet-to-be-dones
And whiled-away-times and not-so-sweet-nothingnesses
And their hearts will sink to think that it’s all over.
I tell you this here and now, if you want time to reflect
And finish the unfinished work you have,
Just an hour or two on a busy day will do,
Please don’t curse me with a holiday too.
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