WORK

Sitting at a Desk.
Working.
Time dripping from a
Crack in an hour glass
Slower and slower, so
Slow.
Mind aching, back aching, eyes
Closing
Like the chances left to
Live dreams.
This is Life.
This is the acceted
Pattern
Of living,
A half-crazed gift
Passed to us from our
Dying grand-parents, and propogated
In trust by our parents,
For us to keep protected
When we are
Parents.
One day, with a knowing grin
An eager wink we
Will pass it
On to our
Children,
Stop working, only to
Die.