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Lackadaisical
 

Take a moment to confess,

That what you did was such a mess,

Sloppy, careless, thoughtless, hurried,

Lack of pride. Everything we do in

Haste, amounts to nothing more than

Waste, a lackadaisical approach,

Disorganised.
 

Don’t you know your friends can tell,

When you haven’t done things well,

Is that line straight, are my eyes

Deceiving me?’ ‘I’m sure that won’t

Stand weight, what a flimsy baby

Gate, shaky fasteners, badly made,

And rickety.’
 

When did perfection start to fail, your

Eye for detail slip away, tools you

Valued left to rust out in the rain.

You can’t have failed to spot the rot,

Missing tools not in their box, precision

Instruments gone walkabout again.
 

Take a moment to reflect,

How in the past you did your best,

When every screw was pilot drilled

And countersunk, when perfection

Was your creed, exactitude your

Only speed, and the outcome works

Of art instead of junk.
 

© Joseph G Dawson