The Shift: The Strain of Duty

The perfection of childhood.

The blossoming of flowers,

The lush, green grass,

The mild warmth of the sun.

Children playing in the park,

Swinging and sliding joyfully,

Teasing each other.

Laughter.

Simplicity.

Time.

No worries,

No regrets,

No stress.

Complete Freedom.

Life.

 

The cold, silent autumn winds

Ceased the poignant reminiscence.

Startled, I became aware of the path I trod.

Discerning the stark disparity between

The current reality and past memory,

A life centered around

Work

Became evident.

 

As purpose succumbed to objective,

That sidewalk became the entire track.

As binding tasks consumed identity,

Attempts to surpass deadlines had become

a tiresome burden.

 

What once was Life

had mutated into something

twisted and mechanical.