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Work and Play

When asked to go, his son did sigh,
“I feel that I should sooner die.”
But on he trudged to do the deed
His mind beset in selfish greed
But when that task was made to seem
The consummation of his dream,
The self-same boy voiced forth a shout,
And left no time ‘fore setting out
For work and play are each a word
Whose meaning shades from clear to blurred
While as one sees his work as play
The other's pain’s on full display
And though both speak of being free,
One has the lock, and one the key.
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