I know people

far too busy

to stop, relax and wonder.

And it’s quite sad

in a way

to stop, relax and wonder.

If they knew I

had the time

to stop, relax and wonder.

They’d probably scoff

like nobody ought

to stop, relax and wonder.

Until the sordid, morbid day

they stop, relax and wonder

perhaps it’s I

who’s mourned the day

one too many times over?