Poem: More To Do

I tried to breathe for a while.

Yet I never could find my breath.

The desire to move only made me stand still.

Trying to leave the group, but only giving more conversation.

The temperature is dropping, but so are my eyes.

When the clock strike 6 they hold no desire.

The wanting to be more is keeping everything the same.

No wonder all I see is pain.

The degree of the stars has passed their prime.

So has mine.