The Last Five Minutes

I try not to be slow. I try to do more.

I’d rather not always, be last out the door

But buttons fight back and zippers are worse

Shoelaces impossible, belt buckles a curse.

So now I allow lots of time to get ready

For fingers that fumble and feet so unsteady

And I have a routine, to help things along

But it’s in the final five minutes, that things always go wrong.

The last five minutes are when things go awry

And no matter how organized, or how hard I try

There is always a ‘something’ that I need to do.

More often than not, it’s a trip to the loo.

An, ‘emergency wee’ a panic of sorts,

A 'just in case wee,’ so I don't get caught short.

So now I am rushing, I don’t want to be late

But really I know, now it’s all up to fate.

Because the more that I panic the slower I am

And now it feels like I’m moving through jam.

Next it’s the keys that get stuck in the lock,

I twist and I turn them but its like they're in rock.

I need a King Arthur to remove them for me

Then after perhaps, he'll get down on one knee,

And help to pick up the stuff dropped on the floor

When we wrestled the keys out of the door.

And the lesson to learn from this mayhem created,

So you too are not also, annoyed and frustrated.

You can take as much time, almost any amount

But it’s only the last five minutes that count.