Caving In

Sometimes the minutes feel like walls, and they're caving in on me

The hours act like birds, and fly for the palm trees

If days were like the sky, along we go along

They'd fall down from up high, along, along we go along

Lose a driving lane and gain an hour on this afternoon commute

I find myself in purgatory, and I'm bingeing on creative ways to troubleshoot

Two words into a sentence, kidnapped by a runaway

Three thoughts I want to share, maybe on a different day

Add four more things to the calendar, this week will be madness

Five months till it settles down, I have my doubts about the process

Open space is filled with closed minds and a pair of absolutes

It's hard to keep a forward movement with a backlog of tasks to be reintroduced

Threadbare and spread too thin, outfitted in urgency

The walls are caving in, always an emergency

Always an emergency

If minutes in the day were walls, closing in inch by inch

The sky gets shorter like the hours, now I really feel the pinch

Now I really feel the pinch