Unpleasant irony, it seems, haunts me again that
whenever I "study" not much progresses from where I began.
Distractions come by both frequent and sly,
and before I can stop it my mind wanders off,
like a thirsty horse to the nearest trough,
like a dog chasing a cat,
or the moth to the light,
like a bee to the pretty pink flower
or a bull to the fight.
Yes, that matador waves his red flag and entices me yet again,
to do everything, anything, except for that needy task at hand.
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