Caught in the Door

The voice of my mother chides me
tonight as so often before;
once again I have left for tomorrow
what I know should already be done.

Yet deep in my mind I don’t hear her,
for those words of wisdom and warmth
become lost in the cloud that surrounds me
and the whir as the minutes sprint by.

Still truth like a needle pricks me,
reminds me I’ll never escape,
when I blindly rush through to tomorrow
and my dress becomes caught in the door.