Slippers on and snacks in hand,
Time flies by like it's a sleigh on sand.
Oblivious to the clock’s cruel chime,
Never ready, always late—it's barely five times.
Exhibit A: The fridge, it calls my name,
Potential munchies driving me insane.
Rummage through it, a quest so grand,
Only to find leftover pizza—cold, bland!
“Oh dear, I lost my train of thought,”
Mind racing, but it’s tangled, a mental knot.
Rambling about a cat, or was it a theme park?
Truly, I’m like a dog chasing after a lark.
“What was I doing? I can’t recall,”
Whole cycles of existence—gone in the hall.
And as I wave my hand, in some kind of trance,
I can swear I just lost my chance to dance.
Hazy Humor is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0
