When there is so much to be done,
My weapons are a pen and pad
With which I write and write a ton
Of lists (quite messy, I might add).
I stuff them into the drawer,
And sip my coffee, feeling pleased.
List-writing can be such a bore,
But my mind has been greatly eased.
Two weeks later, I steal a glance
At those lists from two weeks ago
And stare quite as if in a trance
For I have no work I can show.
Then with a sudden, new resolve,
I once more take my pad and pen
And new lists begin to evolve
To be stuffed in the drawer again.