As I gaze upon the large blank space

the page appears to be so intimidating.

I’m well aware that writing isn’t a race

but you always dread finishing nothing.

There is a clock, and it’s ticking everyday

as our lives are not going to last forever.

One day we’ll croak and many often pray

we didn’t leave incomplete endeavors.

Unfinished business is genuine fear

to leave this world with work undone.

We make fair goals for each pending year

working hard, trying not to seem overrun.

When we die things are bound to be forgotten

so get some made before you’re in the coffin.