Stop

Stop

I want to be a writer, but I don’t have time to read.

I want to donate blood, but I don’t have time to bleed.

I want to fall in love, but I’ve got no time for a guy.

He may not love me back, and I just don’t have time to cry.

I want to stop my speeding, but I don’t have time to cruise.

I want to play a game, but I don’t have time to lose.

I should tell Mum I love her, just before I turn to go,

But I’m already running late. Surely she would know?

I want to stop this headache; there’s no time to meditate.

I pop some codeine in my mouth – I really hate to wait.

The pain will stop in minutes, and then I will be alert.

There’s just so much I have to do… I don’t have time to hurt.

I want to rest these eyes, but I don’t have time to sleep.

This essay’s due in six more hours; oh, now I’m in it deep.

I’ve had four cans of Red Bull, but I’ve got so far to go,

I miss back when I used to think that time moved way too slow.

I need to take a break, they say. But that will take too long.

My heartbeats count the moments down till I am dead and gone.

I hate that I can never rest: I hate this world of mine.

One day I’ll stop and fix it all. When I have the time.