Just Another Thought

I may not be running out of time-
But I'm running out of shelf space
to keep all of these thoughts.
The weight limit has passed the last pound.
The memory of imagination can
go in the trash to be burned- can't it?
If my therapist saw it all
he would call me a hoarder (in sweeter terms.)
Sugarcoat it like every sad momentary thing
I have to say to him once every four weeks. 

What a pity it is to look forward
to college and a stable job-
But what if the job becomes only
something I have and not
something I truly want?
Isn't that the thing with people nowadays?
We'll see a catalog and shout, "Daddy please!"
We buy all these things and then it's
never enough so we get rid of it- then
replace it with more and more and more-
Then it gets to the fact
that in the end, we can't buy time
no matter the highest bid!

So maybe I am running out of time
but at the very least-
but at least...
at least