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