Stuck in the Middle

In the middle of the week,

I’m in the middle of getting dressed,

In the middle of breakfast when I have to stop and take my middle son to school.

In the middle of the night I get an e-mail that wakes me from

The middle of a dream I'm having about being stuck

In the middle of a relationship which makes no sense.

Now, you interrupt me while

I am in the middle of writing; I read it to you - from the middle, and suddenly

We're in the middle of a fight!

Oh, how I wish I was back in the middle of my parents’ big brass bed

Where everything was safe and warm.

I’m not cut out for all of this middle-ing.

I’m the first born, remember?

I don’t follow anyone; I plow the way.

So how come I find myself in the middle of such a mess?

I’m even "middle of the road" in my political beliefs.

Is this why they call it middle-aged?

It is not like me - to be stuck here in the middle
 – or is it?

Do I secretly like being the center of attention?