All your life,
They stand over your shoulder.
At first it’s to help you;
To make you all the bolder.
Or so they say.
Later it’s to keep you in line;
To assure that you don’t stray.
You find yourself,
After a short while,
Standing over some shoulders.
Standing over your work.
Standing in lines.
Standing over your bills.
Fooling yourself into thinking
Life hasn’t lost its thrills.
Standing for all those things,
Some you think are your own.
Because they’ve told you to—
Because it’s what you’ve been shown.
But when you stand, near the end,
At the door of your retirement home,
You might just wish
You had taken the time
To sit.