Baggage, full to bursting-hurting,
Straps digging into your back
Managing time, the one thing you lack.
Balance a thing of the past,
In demand, stretched too thin,
Often procrastinating, wondering
No time to stop, no time to grow
meandering to and fro.
In comes the next bill, out with the last,
Social life a thing of the past.
Essence of you gets lost in the rush,
Who am I? Where am I?
Give up.? Never.