I feel sometimes I'm split in two,
Of all the things I have to do,
I must answer call from call,
And write you when you feel small,
Yet I am but of one whole being,
I can't be all the things you need,
And though I try- you end up hurt,
From all the things that can’t occur,
I want to be two people now,
Since one of me is not allowed,
And maybe even two is less,
Might I try to split in fifths
One for work on tasks that read;
The homework, leisure, written, being.
One for me to lay all day;
A lazy, restful, sleepy, brain.
A third to run and fold and wash;
With laundry hands and feet that jog,
A fourth for all the things I plan;
A mathematic arithmetic man.
And just the fifth all to yourself;
The one that sits for your own wealth,
I listener- a cook indeed,
A softer-spoken lesser me.
Yes, I believe if split in fifths,
I could achieve all that I miss,
Though five of me could get things done,
I'm left to balance all in one.
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