5 Minutes Late

I sat on the couch in my Sunday best
Waiting to leave and be with the rest
Stared at the clock, counting it down
In the hopes of leaving this old town

They sat in their robes and puffed a drag
In no damn hurry, reading a mag
I squirmed and complained as most kids do
Lack of effort, slow motion zoo

As I now prepare for work everyday
I think of those days and start to sway
For the lessons I learned have shaped my thought
Being 5 minutes late was what I was taught

An urge in me that cannot be mastered
Without plenty of spirits that leave me plastered
Like the March Hare, I stare at the clock
Trying to keep from going in shock

I know this is not a very big deal
Those days are gone like a well cooked meal
But it’s hard to unlearn the lessons of the past
When you need to be early, first and fast

So while she dresses and beauties her face
I resist the urge to quicken her pace
I shed those feelings and don’t fall for the bait
Of thinking I am going to be 5 minutes late