busy
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Technicolor world
vehicles racing faster
streaks of bright colors
flowers on the side
showing their smiling faces
through the thick asphalt
hurried people walk
the echo of strings
from the busy street it rings
as rosiny dust fills the air
a melody, calm, slow, almost still
a lone pigeon stops to stare
Peace
my child,
peace within.
I skipped a rock
the ripples spin.
I seek the truth
I threw the stone,
but still I ponder
Where did it go?
Peace within.
Look at the lake
I cannot stand still.
I could not stop if I peased to.
I'm busy, busy, busy. A little happy bee.
Musical. Soccer. Canoeing. Scouts. Chior.
Texting, facebook, instagram, snaps. Gee, no time free?
You're too busy for her
She's too busy for you
He doesn't have enough time
You can't make it today
They said junior year was the most difficult
Well they were surely wrong
Yes the spring of SAT's and college visits were strenuous
But senior year was strong
My first priority was cross country
Hello.
How are you?
That's nice.
Me?
How am I?
Oh.
Oh no.
You don't want that answer.
Why?
You sure you wanna know?
Remember, you did this to yourself.
As I wake up
I have my towel in hand
Brushing my teeth
Putting on clothes
To go
To school
I have a test today
Papers due tomorrow
I'll study after
I go
Busy sidewalks,
crowds of people—
rush rush rush.
No time, no time,
will not stop
hesitate—
Too busy busy busy
too much effort to see
difficulty.
crashing and bashingillegally found, stolen, and lostall in one single, setted dayremaining remainders remind us of researchre-inventing, re-intended to re-bring us all back home
Time passes by
Is it already October?
The school year goes on and on
And I'm trying not to get left behind.
I work hard to finish the work,
to have time for games and floor bonding.
What a busy atmosphere
Rushing, rustling, raging streets
Crazy, crowded, chaotic people
Always seeing each other
Never knowing one another
She would walk past him on the way to work
Pure understanding of such succession of line,
Never fearing what could be done without time,
Worrying about time and place,
Wiping off the sad disgrace,
All I do is just continue to stride for what could be mine.
Going
Cyclic
Spinning
Weaving
Dying
Spewing
Churning
Turning
Weeping
Leaving
Sleeping
Crying
Weeping
Crazy.
