Reality

We move through life as if we’re strapped
Onto a wagon wheel,
In constant motion, with no time
To pause or rest or heal.

But if we’re lucky, we can take
Vacation for a while
And get to live a different life
And do it up in style.

Yet all good things must end, they say,
And that includes vacation.
We’re tied back on our wheel
To deal with all life’s aggravation.

Still, nothing’s ever only bleak
And though this may sound cheesy,
I’m back now in reality
‘Cause Henry* made it easy.

*my baby grandson