A thing can't plan itself, I know
And yet I always wish it would
Because the planning is so slow
Though once it's planned, it should be good.
But plans aren't fire and forget
And must be followed carefully
So I must plan, and once it's set
I have to check it constantly
And who needs that? I would prefer
A world in which my plans self-made
And -executed, so they were
An automatic function all arrayed
To happen when I thought about
Whatever planning was in doubt.
Friday, March 22, 2013
Itself
Labels:
sonnets
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