No Room to Breathe

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.