If I had a million seconds for each second that I’ll live,

To a million dreams that I once dreamed, each second I would give.

Time is of the essence, see, and time I barely get

To make my life of all the things I have to do yet.

Even poetry is pushed aside by schedules, stress, and fear.

It’s tough to say which of these things I’d like to hold most dear.

I never cry in public, but today I lost control.

The more I pack into my time the bigger grows the hole.

While things get done, I’m overrun with lack of quality.

Life would be much easier if I could find more energy.

It’s hard to write while I’m in tears, and I can’t type on the road.

I guess it’s time to rid some things from my oppressive load.

~A Very Busy Armiella