What’s the Point?

There’s not enough time

But too much of it

How can both things be?

I go to sleep too early now

But the insomnia still haunts me

I’m running out of time

To do those things I swore I’d do

Write the great American novel

Pen the next Broadway sensation

Write a song worthy of Dylan

Make a film to win an Oscar

Write philosophy and meaning

People care about and hear

Because they love you

And care what you think

And you’re not just the ghost of a girl

Sipping English breakfast tea

Neither in England or at breakfast

Black and bitter

Too bitter.

You left the bag in too long

But you drink it anyway

Because you deserve the bitter

You could have removed the bag

At any time.

You let it steep

So now just sleep

In the bed you've made

This is your life

In 3D IMAX view

Why am I doing this

Writing this?

What’s the point of this?

I’m wasting more time.