Monday, 27 January 2014

Cradle to the Grave

Still in the race but tired of it
Running through the day
Pounding up employment hill
To keep respect, to earn your pay
 
Jogging down the long short street
No turning on this road
From A to Zee the structured path
Where so much life has flowed
 
Time flows too with remorseless ticking
Cruelly marking the ebb of strength
Doom’s winged chariot without a brake
Traversing route of unknown length
 
You leave your cradle for the yoke
Life’s strictures make you slave
Freedom lost at stroke of birth
Regained in closing grave

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