Whatever Will He Do Now?
Who knew it would be so challenging
To retire in this life?
Shouldn’t it get easier with age?
Yet he still feels a deep sense of strife
Work took so much out of him
It demanded he capitulate
Yet he held on so tight to what it offered
Forgetting what it can obfuscate
Work isn’t your friend I wanted to tell him
Don’t you ever ever forget
It’s nothing more my dear old lad
No more than a mere paycheque
Yes I know for you
Who had nothing before
Work became your comfort place
One that offered up a cure
For loneliness and meaninglessness
A chance to change your fate
To keep your family clothed and daily put
The bacon on the breakfast plate
But his soul and those of his
Flesh and blood
Continued in malnourishment
Even when there was a-plenty
Their souls were still hungry, empty
Is life worth the bacon without the beguine?
There’s no joy
No beauty
No heartbeat
In choosing a life of toil
Surely he and his can live with less
Fewer things that will only destroy
A sense of wonder in this great universe
Their world reduced to a mere digit
Can’t he sense the void deep down within?
Doesn’t he know there’s more to life than an office floor?
Or a cubicle, conference room, a birdcage?
Now he’s forced to retire
This old pal of mine
And he’s never looked more lost
I wish I could warn him
Not to join my tragic ending
But alas this ain’t no Christmas Carol
For I’m permanently six feet under
Wishing not my last years of sad retirement
On my old pal my old sod
Whatever will he do now?
sigh. ..