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.