We all live these lives

Where our bodies take on roles,

Our minds engage in natural

Motions that help define our motives,

We carve out identities alone.

Yet, stimuli around our lives

Locks like a vice upon fortune.

A breather would be welcome

Rather the grind, the reminders,

We continue to wait for a peace,

Upon escalation, rather than rest,

And then the wheels keep turning.

Seems ironic to always discover

Our value when least imagined.