Crapé Diem

Impatience takes the toll it will.
I’m late, but I’d be later still
Were I to rush, provoking Fate
To gleefully impede my rate
To such a great extent a snail
Would leave me gasping in its trail.
Each task discretely takes the time
It’s set to take. Too hasty, I’m
Inviting Tardiness’s friend
Absentia the day to spend
Politely locking every door
Between what’s done and something more.
There’s courtesy in promptitude,
It’s true. Today, just say I’m rude.

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