Slow Down
Can I get a minute to myself?
Every other day I'm talking to some one new
'Here's my number', 'text me' what am I supposed to do?
I'm not gonna be rude and reject you
No disrespect but you have no clue
I need time for me
Make a track
Simply relax
Or write some poetry
I look at my watch and the hands are spinning twice as fast
I'm feeling nauseous
Get me off this ride
I shouldn't even be on with a history of epilepsy
Everything is moving hyper sonic speed
I'm about to graduate high school next thing you know I'll be married
I'll blink and rub my hand over my balding head
Then my next breath would be one of last laying on my death bed
In utter shock because yesterday I was a kid
Or was i?
Did my whole life pass me by?
What kind of deal at birth did I sign?
My life span as quick as an exhalation
I don't think the following requires an explanation
I want everything to move at a snails pace
So I can calculate the course of the race
And have time to double check my math without a thing out of place
So I can do research on where to go and read every book on the case
So I can analyze time and space
So every movement is exact and precise
It's not to much to ask is it?
In world centered around other people
If I question it would the answer be accurate?
Or is the answer simply dogmatic?
In any event I don't want to say I wasted my life when I look back at it
I want like all older people and bring only good memories from the attic
I must slow down I can make the turbulent waters of life placid
poem by Martin McCollugh
Added by Poetry Lover
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