The
Shadows,
Silent,
Lurking,
Is
The
Nagging
Thought
That
I’m
Not
Working
Hard
Enough,
Or
Late
Enough,
And
Dual
Projects
Remain
Rough.
To
Get
Along,
I fashion
A
Merry
Song.
Arranging
Words
Can
Make
Me
Cross,
If
Every
Edit
Is
A
Grievous
Loss.
All
I can
Do
Is
Try,
Knowing
Paint
Takes
An
Age
To
Dry.