Ode To Retirement
Created | Updated Apr 7, 2002
Without work the days are long
And the nights are longer
And weeks stand still in frustrating ease
Which slide into months of boredom,
And the year is gone without appease.
And in the days that are long
And the nights that are longer
Respect shrinks to a wizened core,
For work is the oil of mans existence,
The only resistance against the endless death of enforced ease
