Daily Demands

My day
Is thrust upon the mighty scale,
It's weight flucuating back and forth
'Tween nothingness and
Eternity,
And then carved up like so much meat,
Packaged and distributed
Among the howling, scrambling mob.

      "Enough!"
I cry,
     "You're consuming me,
      I've not one minute to claim as mine!"
The relentess clamor grows as each one whines:
           "But this cause is so honorable!"
           "And this one is so important!"
           "Surely, you can spare a small bit more,
           A mere trifle, tidbit, a crumb!"

So I relent,
And further give,
And in return,
All beg for more,
Like savage beasts n'er satisfied,
Though I have given all I own.

The clock runs down,
The multitude divides
And crawls ther separate ways,
To pass the time til tomorrow's feast.
And I, weary and worn,
Gather up my ragged wits
And stare into the silent night
In search of wise instruction.

The gong strikes,
The pack assembles
And impatiently waits
For my new day,
Eager to claim their self-alotted due.

But, I walk through the muttering horde,
Past pointing fingers and accusing eyes,
Fix my eyes upon the horizon,
And firmly resolve,
      "Today,
      My time is not for sale."

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