Circles never sent

I wrote you a poem
A rant
An irrelevant piece of prose
I suppose you could see now
If it had sent,
But some crook of programming
Blocked my shot at explanation
For the frustration I feel
For not calling.
I've been racing around
Knowing I'll get up before I've had the chance to sleep sound
Bound to sweat for my welfare
To stubborn for welfare
Jobs overlapping
Slapping myself silly
To stay awake
Breaking commitments silently
Feel like an ass for passing as something less then all I can be
No periods,
Just a run on day
In steel shoes with a walking blues
Stradling my brow
Knowing some how
It will all be okay.

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