You say you’re busy, rushing through,
But deep inside, you know it's true:
You've filled your days beyond the brim,
And wonder why your joy feels dim.

 

You’ve overpromised, overplayed,
Ignored the toll that must be paid.
You lie and say, “It will soon be clear,”
Yet drag the same load year to year.

 

There’s always more—another task—
But rarely do you stop to ask,
“Is this the life I meant to build,
Or just a void I’ve overfilled?”

 

Let’s go slow, let us see,
Let the process carry thee.
Live your life a new design,
Hour by hour, and make it thine.

 

You say “next time,” you say “not now,”
And wear your “busy” like a vow.
But who are you when you refuse
To stop and notice how you lose?

 

You could say “no,” redraw the lines,
Reclaim your life, with all aligned.
But you keep proving you can cope—
Which only proves you are a dope.

 

You tell myself, “Just push on through,”
Hoping joy will be your due.
But sacrificing joy for now—
Your happiness you’ve disavowed.

 

Let’s go slow, let us see,
Let the process carry thee.
Live your life a new design,
Hour by hour, and make it thine.

 

To care for self, do not delay—
Start right now, the only way.
Undo the guilt, the drive to please,
And find your pace in life’s soft breeze.

 

Not “busy”—no, not anymore—
But leisurely, with space and more.
For now you know what’s truly true:
A joyful journey is your due?