People are busy sometimes but mostly they just try.
They try to pretend and pretend to try that their time is more precious than mine
So why don't you give my time some time (and keep your phone aside?)
If it's your first class and you walk in late
It's that impression which stays and for you, it's the last one too
People are busy sometimes but mostly they just try.
I've heard a poet recite, "My poems are sad that they're not mine". It made me think for a while.
Like whether to think of the poet [or me (or of the poet in me)] when I read a poem
So why don't you give my time some time (and let it craft a poem aside?)
It's like climbing the stairs when there's a lift right next to the stairs
You can't help but climb... That's how her class doesn't clash with yours
People are busy sometimes and sometimes some do try
They try to pretend and pretend to try that their time is more precious than mine
So why don't you give my time some time (and keep your phone aside?)
If it's your first class and you walk in late
It's that impression which stays and for you, it's the last one too
People are busy sometimes but mostly they just try.
I've heard a poet recite, "My poems are sad that they're not mine". It made me think for a while.
Like whether to think of the poet [or me (or of the poet in me)] when I read a poem
So why don't you give my time some time (and let it craft a poem aside?)
It's like climbing the stairs when there's a lift right next to the stairs
You can't help but climb... That's how her class doesn't clash with yours
People are busy sometimes and sometimes some do try
You poem, while resonating to my very core lacks a title and that creates some sort of itch in the back of my kind. It's almost as if I'm trying too hard and not getting through.
ReplyDeleteAnd I love how you've accepted that we don't always try. Nothing is not truthful in your work.