I’d like to forget
Just once in a while
The endless regret
That stems from my pile
A pile that I made
Of things I could do
Ideas that became
the tasks I must do
So then I’m remiss
If aught’s left undone
From the longest list
Seen under the sun
So much work, such hard jobs
Should I throw list away
To go out with the dogs
Go out and just play?
Fantastic! What a delightful poet you are! You struck a chord when you said you make a pile of "things you could do" and then you struggle to do them! Never ending cycle!
