Why is it
that men don't think?

I stuff my stuff in a pouch
lock the clasp
someday I'll look at it
I know it's important to have
but I just don't have the time right now!

Yet I know
that this is the only time I have
I allow my rhythm to be set
to the beat of others drums
who don't even know 
or care about my welfare
they pound out
quickstep, run, sprint
we need more
faster
better
Is this what I need?

Trapped in my pattern
I must provide
which I gladly, begrudgingly do
there comes a day when all men
run away in deed or mind
to the great tree of life
the owl in the right hand branch asks
Who, Who, Who?
All men answer
I don't know
it's in my pouch.