Where do you Live?
Is there no room for joy?
No place for laughter?
No easing of care?
Better to never live,
Than have no room to relax,
No place where you can play,
Certainly play is not all of life,
But if you try to eliminate it,
Have you not killed the spirit,
Made dull slavery,
Of all that is done?
Turned duty into a grinding stone,
Made living a short trip to hell,
Where maybe things are better,
’Cause surely with all the people there,
There won’t be a demon to torture just you.
© 2010 Vic Jones
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