After running in place
for what seems like an age,
can’t I just lessen the pace
and scribble a word on this page?
Why must there always be work,
some urgently pressing demand,
a duty too vital to shirk
requiring my guiding hand?
Surely I will find some way
to invite my pen out to play
even if ending the day
I struggle for something to say!
In fact, it seems I’ve found time
to doodle this trivial rhyme.
Aroil in Pain 