The Juggler Out of Breath
I am the juggler.
I am the juggler
of life.
Of family.
Of friends.
Of school.
Of extracurricular activities.
Of chaos.
I am the juggler.
My best friends are
STRESS,
anxiety,
and fatigue.
I am the juggler.
Happiness,
relaxation,
and sleep
are long-lost friends
I abandoned months ago.
I am the juggler.
I wait for the flood of relief and rest to wash over me after I
write down the last word,
play the last note,
ace the last tennis ball,
hear the last words of the OM script,
and shelve the last library book.
It never comes.
I am the juggler.
I wait for that opportune moment
to breathe.
It never comes.
But I am patient.
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Note from the Poet:
This is just explains how I feel like on a daily basis. *Includes weekends* Vote&comment! :D
