Waiting

When I start to lose my mind, the pieces getting scattered and hard to find, I feel the clock speeding up as it unwinds. I am living fast. I don’t think there’s enough of myself to last. I spread myself out too thin. A little bit of me here, a little more over there, Till I hang from a string that has become thread bare. When will life slow down, so I can do it again? There’s some of myself for my job. There’s some of myself for my education. There’s some of myself for my transportation. There’s some of myself for my creative outpouring. There’s some of myself for my friends adoring. There’s some of myself for women I want to know. There’s not enough of myself for sanity to take hold. Sometimes fear grips me, Fear I do not understand and I cannot explain. So I sit alone inside myself and I refrain. I sit and stare at the T.V. then wonder what I watched. I feel time slipping by so I turn my wrist to look at my watch. It’s time for another part of me to go out. Will I get up or hide in the television’s light? Life is calling. It’s time for another bout. Will I stand firm or break underneath my own fright? Some days I spend gathering pieces of myself. I put them back together and tell myself there are no mistakes. Each part of me has a need that it shares with the rest of the world. Put back together, I can hear the world calling. How long can I hold together, How much longer? I’m not getting stronger, Just a little smarter, Changing-- Waiting . . . Tom Hamrin October 25, 1998