"goalone" poems
The rush of it allYou know the sensation of being lateThe rush to be on timeThe anxiety theThe frustrationWhy couldn’t it be more like the days of oldThe days I dream ofThe calmness and serenityWhere all is in rhythm with the heartbeat of lifeWhere time passes carelesslyWhen will there be only one goalOne preoccupation2006-
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 10:20 AM UTC