Is it worth it, all this toil?
That burdens me so.
This labour that takes its toll, making me recoil.
I can stand tall no more.
Is it worth it, all these things?
They fight for my attention.
They tear apart my spleen.
Each one dons a costume, to rival the others’ sheen.
They all cry out, “it is an emergency!”
Is it all that serious, all these things?
That make me cringe and desperately cling.
I hold on tight, with the strength I bring forth.
I delve within my heart to release this strength.
I keep digging deeper for treasure.
Yes, these precious golden nuggets of peace of mind, a rested soul and tranquil joy.
The mine of my life and mind are here by almost barren.
Constant emergencies and extremely urgent matters have overexploited my mine.