That you and I are similar this is true,
Lucretius' glass reflects again to see
What great bounty I owe to thee:
Love of art and life inherited of you.
Damned procrastination though
You think part of this fillial 'deed';
So think you that document dishevelled be -
What good be goals if wait is all I do?
But fear not, there may be hope, perchance:
Aware I was that soon was Mother's Day
I actually wrote this sonnet in advance!
So, aye, flit and fancy rule me that they may
But if surely I can write a couple stanzas,
Surely, then, concerns are washed away!
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