Tsung-Tang Shen

Five Minutes

Locked in a world of its own
The long one sprints around the circular plane
Flying past twelve numbers
Before the others can cross one
Or move at all.

Waiting for the final school bell to ring,
It feels like counting to infinity.
When I'm on a five minute break,
It feels like counting to three.
Never knowing when it will happen, only hoping.

Struggling to make deadlines, to meet due dates.
The final minutes of a lonely night
Are always sneaking up on me.
Only to be saved by a magical cup
Of warm, hazelnut coffee.

People living with the most of it
Always wondering how to spend it
Those who never have enough
Always pondering where it went.
An endless cycle of routine.

As a toddler I play absent mindedly
Ever so unaware while the world hurries,
Towering above me.
Sometimes it hits me. I realize,
There's no going back.


Copyright 2002-2006 Student Publishing Program (SPP). Poetry and prose 2002-2006 by individual authors. Reprinted with permission. SPP developed and designed by Strong Bat Productions.