I Race With Time

I race with time.
I intend to fill every minute, every moment in my life
with occasion, events, and happenings
that flares and brightens up
every second of my life.

I race with time.
Looking for every available moment
to 'do something'
for 'doing nothing' is
a waste of time
a waste of life.
I race with time
to accomplish, to fulfill expectations
from myself and others,
to solidify that I am reliable, responsible, and respectable.

I race with time
even though I have no time
for myself and others.
I weave through crowds,
skim through textbooks,
gobble down meals,
to be at some other place, at some other time,
and to be at another place, at another time.

I race with time;
grasping to every minute,
absorbing everything I can, but
what do I possess
at the end?

I race with time
to find deadlines over
to find expectations failed
to find things not perfected.
I negotiate, I tolerate, I beg;
yet at the end of the day
I leave scars.
And I kept racing with time.

I race with time,
realizing only now that I do not have
the ability to run
as speedily as I expected;
I race with time,
getting more and more tired,
and I still race with time.
So finally I regurgitate everything I absorbed along the way,
and become the floating character
in everybody's eyes.
And I would still be racing with time.