Relays

Times of old,

times of ease 

have slipped in whole.

I have the keys, 

to a new world, 

people to please, 

and money to earn.

How did slow summer days

where we could mess around

turn into an office place

that repeat in relays.

Today and from now on,

these days are just a memory,

and life now goes on

as I grasp the keys. 

 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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