Masquerade

Just two days after
Returning to work
From vacation,
I’m already
Depressed.
Stressed.
Restless.
Hopeless.
I don’t believe
It’s all the job.

I think
It’s the knowing,
That once again,
I must dance
In this masquerade.

That I have to
Keep up the façade.
Smile.
Work.
Earn a living.
Pay the bills.
Pay for our home.
Keep everything
Moving.
Or die trying.

I no longer
Have the energy
To fight.

I’m strapped
To life’s conveyor belt,
Carried forward
Whether I wish
To go or not.

Like a lamb,
Quietly approaching
The slaughter.