Therapy Bits

I chased the morning through mist and gray,
But time, it whispered, “You’ll pay, you’ll pay.”
My footsteps echoed—slow ballet—
A clumsy waltz of being late.

The clock hands smirked, their cruel display,
Each tick a taunt, each tock—delay.
The sun climbed high, in bright parade,
While I trailed after, half-afraid.

Dreams don’t wait when hearts disobey,
And fate keeps count of those who stray.
Yet still I run, though past the gate—
Forever learning how to wait.

And in that waiting, I create,
A softer peace within delay—
For sometimes grace arrives, though late,
And love forgives what time won’t say.

Three Things Challenge #MM212 | pensitivity101