Wasted Minutes Poem by Maya Hanson

Wasted minutes, wasted space
I can never find the right moments
to tell you what you mean to me

I stumble on my own defeats,
reach back again and again
for lives I thought were tragedies

Cruel time, cruel laws
gravity nailing me to the earth
even when I don't want to be here

I'm rich if rich means
trading pieces of time in for people
but I still can't speak around you

Spending letters and energy
Cruel wasted minutes swirl down the drain…
at least I'm not going with them.