Word By Word

There is a lull, a lull, a lull

and then the 

tide sweeps in and

carries everything hungrily out

to sea again. 

All's been caught in the rip tides,

all is being spun about like a 

washing machine

in a lonely laundromat.

Now it seems there is so much 

to be done.

So much and the time is always

so little,

too little.

I fear an exchange in

interests

will leave me 

without anywhere to go.

But now there are new responsibilities

that will make me a better person,

I guess.

Or so they all like to make you think.

It shall be worth it,

I hope,

for I am already nervous

about this influx of stuff

in my life.

------

And dear boy,

I hope you took my advice and

slept, and took a healthy dose

of Nyquil. I know you're against self-medicating,

but you said it yourself that you felt like crap.

So I hope you are feeling better, dear.

I hope you are not so miserable

and gaunt-looking; hope you are not

so stuffy-nosed and flushed.

You have a habit of over-exerting yourself,

but you do not seem to realize this.