Hour Eight

Hustle and bustle and quick quick quick

Running around is making me sick

I try and I try to stop and rest

And try to put these coping skills to the test

But try as I might it’s just so hard to stop

And

.

.

.

Breathe

One thought on “Hour Eight

  1. Kind Regards from Johannesburg South Africa. I enjoyed reading your poem. The theme of this poem resonates with most of us that get caught up in our hectic lives and we find it difficult to step back and catch our breath.
    I also like how you ended the poem with those pauses before the final line, signifying running out of breath. Fantastic.

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