Just a Little Spare Time

When you really get into life, you seem to never have a time just to yourself. It's one thing to the next. I thought a poem about it would be nice.

I fumble in my pocket for something,

I know is not there.

A little spare time is all I need,

and I hate myself,

For using the crumbs of it just last week.

I could settle for some peace and quiet,

but I took that for granted,

Years ago.

 

Now, I turn out my pockets,

and watch,

As deadlines,

                Late fees,

                               Stress,

    Worry,

             Noise,

                      and Bustle,

Fall and clatter,

Against the cold cement of the side walk.

I would've liked to leave them here,

To weather through the rest of the day,

If only to soften their sharp edges,

but as I turned,

Instinct took hold,

And jerked hard,

on my puppet-like strings.

 

I turned,

and swept up my troubles,

and stuffed them back,

Into my pockets.

I started off in search of,

Just a little spare time.

 

1-31-08

Author's Note

The 'ands' and 'buts' aren't capitalized, because it looks weird to me.
You only have to look at it once, but I have to keep rereading it.
So please don't comment on that.