Childlike Wonder

Daily Poetry

The clock roars and the child stirs awake,
a heart racing as he rushes to the chair.
No stress on his hair, but stars in his eye shake.

A new game, a toy for his amusement,
a new addiction that fuels bewilderment.
A simple pleasure, fuel for passion,
his love would make a wonderful lesson
as to why we wake up every day,

to not shy away to the duties we wish to stray,
work and games we play, can we somehow say
they’re one in the same?

How does our mind work when one is a bore
and the other is a score?

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