That some of my actions occur in slow motion,
It takes me much longer to answer the door,
Or to pick up the paper that fell to the floor.
It takes a long time to get up in the morning,
And the task of the day to start in performing,
To button my shirt is sometimes a chore,
And a shower quite quickly I don't take any more...
At breakfast, while reading the paper I linger,
It sometimes takes time to grab a pill with my fingers,
And in an emergency, it may take time, before
The reason I find, and the response I explore...
I know that I'm slower, that I used to be faster,
And though I concede that it's not a disaster,
As I slowly make my way to the store,
I feel like a swimmer who's wandered from shore...
And while my slowness makes me feel like a fool,
And the thing I do fast is – losing my cool,
Sometimes I feel that I should speed it up,
Lest one day I will come to a complete stop...