Morning Poetry 3

How can it be there's so much to think about,
that every second that passes,
a trillion thoughts fleet by,
but don't stay.

How can it be there's so much to do,
that every second that passes,
is another previous moment lost,
that doesn't stay.

How can it be there's so much to say,
that every second that passes,
is another loaded silence,
that doesn't stay.

How can it be there's so much to achieve,
that every second that passes,
is another chance to be,
another better you.

How can it be,
that I have to wake up early,
to work on things,
that occupy my mind even during moments
when I thought I had successfully pushed it all behind.

Goodnight world.
Tomorrow will be my productive day.

Scent...