If I had the time to make a "To Do" list,
I can bet it would be 2 miles long.
Everything is shrouded in a mist,
And to be honest, I'd rather write a song.
Scattered on "Post its" on the desktop,
In font size eight.
You could jump, skip and hop,
The burden will still be of the same weight.
Maybe it's time to make a list again,
And happily cross out each line.
Then perhaps I could board a train,
And everything will be fine!
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