Workers

To be or not to be?


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There’s much to argue about, get angry about, miss.
It takes work to be whole again and dazzled like a child.
One casts off chains with a drink, another with a dream.
Time shoves innocence to the dust and drags us along.
Contentment’s a bride and it takes work to gain her favor,
But off we go again to court the day, convinced again
That despair is fleeting, that existence has meaning,
That some little god like a child clapping cheers us on.
We work at the sleep we need to keep on working well.
We count things, meditate, squirm, and worry that we
Can’t possibly go on, worry that we have to anyway
Because we live for others, and they need us to be.