Procrastination

-Procrastination-
At three, an empty canvas
Within the deepest sorrows
How far-fetched I gazed , wide-eyed
So long I craved ,theres still tomorrow
At six, an empty canvas
Embedded to the sofa , nail-biting
Choking on finely-strung numbness
Silent and slow, it was all or nothing
Into the dewy mist , unfolding richness
At nine, an empty canvas
My paintbrushes slick and shiny
Staying rooted in pots, rooting for liberty
Every relax and contract , peace breaks out a teensy-weensy
Torn between fight and flight, tongue-tied party
At twelve, an empty canvas
Backing out of this hopeless trial
Defeat finally kicks in with a dial
While in the most free
Lies the most forbidden