Archive
01/22/09 - (1)
In a Hurry
Time has never demonstrated a penchant for patience; Indeed, it's never been one to tarry. It's always strictly a cash-and-carry customer, A hit-and-run driver, a speed demon, A wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am, not haste-makes-waste, sort.
That time suffers from a trinity of disorders — Attention-deficit, obsessive-compulsive, hypomania — Is understandable, given the stress it bears, Just accomplishing its vital daily activities; After all, it is responsible for progressing the present,
Seeing to it that the past is carefully stowed in caskets, Ensuring that the planet's future has continuity. But although time is existence's most necessary essence, It's so neurotic, in such a perpetual hurry, That it never gets to know us.
01/22/09 - (1)
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