There must be more to this
Than letting alarm clocks rule
Our days. To live by a schedule
So meticulous that your breath
Is held for longer than needed.
A bedtime so precise that
Any minute later would devastate
Your next alarm clock greeting.
Any time left over, if any at all,
Would be grand to use
For what brings you total joy.
But you know you are too tired
And the point of it all gets
Further away. So back on track
You go, with no room to breathe.