The Tragic Legend of Sir Work-A-Lot

I
I woke to conquer noble deeds,
Ambition blazing in my chest;
I made heroic morning creeds —
Then hit the snooze button for rest.
The sunlight climbed, the hours fled,
My dreams of glory slipped away;
Thus history notes, in ink blood-red:
“He almost started… once… one day.”

II
My armor: shirt not iron-made,
My sword: a pen that leaks at will,
My dragon: tasks I long delayed,
My battlefield: a windowsill.
The coffee cup, my grail divine,
Bestows brief strength, then disappears;
And like all heroes, so does mine —
It vanishes within three cheers.

III
The clock, that tyrant robed in ticks,
Declares my progress far too slow;
It mocks my plans, it jeers my tricks,
It points where I refuse to go.
Each minute struts in smug parade,
Each second drums a taunting beat;
Time is the rudest boss God made —
And never grants a lunch or seat.

IV
I draft a list of things to do,
A scroll of triumph yet unborn;
By noon there’s twenty-thirty-two
More tasks than graced it in the morn.
It grows like bread that will not bake,
It breeds like rabbits in a hat;
I cross one off — for courage’s sake —
Then add three more for balance flat.

V
The chair receives me like a throne,
Though slightly squeaked and somewhat bent;
It knows I’ll sit there like a stone
Until my will to work is spent.
We share a bond both deep and true:
It holds me firm, I hold it down;
And though I rise a time or two,
It knows I’ll crawl back, duty-bound.

VI
My thoughts, like scholars, roam afar,
Debating matters vast and deep:
If penguins dream beneath a star,
Or why awake when one could sleep.
Philosophy invades my brain
When labor asks for mere attention;
The mind prefers the cosmic plane
To filling forms with due dimension.

VII
At last I strike a noble pose,
Resolved to act, to strive, to shine;
I crack my knuckles, flare my nose —
Heroic start at quarter nine.
But first, perhaps, a snack for might;
And then a scroll, a stretch, a sigh;
Great deeds, I find, require right
Conditions… which have not passed by.

VIII
So sing, O bards, of warriors bold,
Of kings who ruled and seas who roared;
Yet none surpassed, in days of old,
My battle with a task ignored.
For dragons sleep and empires fall,
And legends fade like morning fog —
But I achieved the feat of all:
I stared down work… and checked my blog.