You didn’t finish the yard work, only half the bedroom’s painted.
Dishes lie in the sink, and you hear the bathroom faucet dripping
while you try to fall asleep among the fumes,
and the sound of weeds growing outside the window,
the one that needs washing, along with all the others you can’t see through.
The floors need vacuuming and mopping,
the holes in the lànai screen doors let the mosquitoes in,
and piles of dirty laundry sit stewing in the hamper.
The car needs a tune-up and an oil change,
and these sheets you’re lying in smell of sweat.
It’s amazing you can sleep at night for all you should be doing.
And all of this is on top of what your day job requires of you.
Responsibility grows right up alongside you while you strap on your big boy pants.
Your parents used to pitch in, but they’re not around anymore,
so all forms of upkeep mount like the payments with each new loan you take out.
Life turns into a 24/7 marathon, and you may feel like the race is lost
before you’re even off the line, beaten before you can take a single step.
Know what you need? A mentor. Someone who can pick you up, dust you off,
and train you up in the way of life hacks, help you master pace and time management.
Enter . . .
Good news. He’s been here all along, and he’s your Father.
Bad news. He’s secretly been coaching the opposition, always will.
So while Time appears to burst on the scene and help you gradually take control of your life,
he’s really only appearing to assist, only looks to be teaching you to get life together.
He’s actually your nemesis, your fata morgana, pointing you,
with a bony finger, in what appears to be the right direction.
But he deceives you, will finally abandon the ruse,
in the end run out on you, leave you behind in the dust.
And just before he pulls his disappearing act, you’ll look back,
and you’ll realize how he made you believe you might win the race, achieve all your goals,
when with his help, you were as quickly as possible going to lose everything in the end.