My nana taught my mother, who taught me

That no excuse exists for running late

A brain set to a task cannot be free

Inter the one who makes an elder wait

I face the price of running low on time

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Resumed an errand after watching rail

Their operations flawless, else a crime

Analysis of rigour let me fail

Hand damaged when I fled the bridge too fast

By dangling length of fencing left to rust

Elect but fail to not repeat the past

A trickle of my blood falls to the dust

The power rests in what the clerics say

A surge, relief, he sends me on my way