Gershon Wolf Poet Rhyme

The Rat Race

In his mind he makes his plans
  So many things he'll do
To finish each and every one
  He'd surely need four hands

He starts his day, but right away
  He senses he's in trouble
Yet instead of scaling back a bit
  His maniacal pace is redoubled

By noon he's gassed and at wit's end
  How will everything get done
Panicked, he decides to skip his lunch
  Make a desperate afternoon run

At 3:00 p.m. he sees it's hopeless
  He'll never win the battle
It dawns on him his quest's insane
  The finish line a death rattle

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Caren Krutsinger December 17, 2020 at 6:34 AM Type A people live this almost daily.

Alexis Y. December 13, 2020 at 6:44 PM Hi Gershon, Folk such is this get burned out fast. Should scale back some and just breathe! I enjoyed the read:-) Alexis Gershon Wolf December 14, 2020 at 3:09 PM You are so right. I guess one of the reasons for the 'rat race' is that the 'rats' are all-too-willing participants! :)