A Race With Rest

As the semester falls, the finals week will present itself in the blink of an eye;

“I am completely composed and collected”, I would nonchalantly tell myself a lie.

Then I’d open my books and watch my eyes wander endlessly at the pages,

And when I finally manage to break the circadian rhythm, the habit then never changes.

Necessary breathers and breaks, a man needs to chase after to survive,

but what workaholism lives in me that I would intentionally choose to let myself deprive?

For I have a never-ending race with time, I cannot afford to walk slow.

But if I trip and fall down, would that not be a much fatal blow?

And then I would stare at the void of assessing worth, debating how I should go about it;

Attempting the race but never to win, perhaps is all there is to admit.  

For all the made and forgotten new year’s resolution, maybe here’s one for the end of the year:

“I’ll go easy on myself, getting rests in between, while not taking anything too severe.”

For I may no longer win the race, I might instead achieve a successful and consistent pace.

So even if I had tripped and fell, I would’ve still reached the finish line just in place. 

And no matter how much more challenging time gets or rough,

I would have made peace with myself, knowing I’ve done well and enough.