Wasting Time


Time is money, or so they say.

So why am I letting mine slip away? 


I jump in the fast lane of a passing track,

Only to stall, and work my way back.


It's hard to see if I'm getting ahead,

As I toss and turn each night in my bed.


Have the great opportunities passed me by?

Am I just wasting time or should I even try?


Don't ask why the best thoughts lie,

If you ask me, I'll just sigh.


Spinning my wheels, running in place,

Wasting time, I'm off the pace.


I set for myself; but what's the use,

Trying hard to catch up is just more abuse.


So, without reason or rhyme,

I'm just stuck here, wasting time.


Copyright 2000 © Ronald W. Hull




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