Carrots & Sticks Poem by Daniel P Martin
Carrots & Sticks
My little square of sky,
With people passing by,
A glimpse into the day,
Distant echoes of play,
Chained to my space-bar,
Which doesn’t stretch that far,
Aware I’m just a cog,
A slave unto my job.
Friday arrives quite fast,
The bonds are cut at last,
For now I’ll take my leave,
Be free till Sunday eve’,
But truthfully I’d say,
I’d have it no other way.
For life must be a mix,
Of carrots and of sticks.
Wow, Daniel a poem with a great rythm and good rhyme. The content is thought provoking. If our lives are chained to a space bar, it is time to find the inner light. I am not sure, but I have read once that whatever job at hand, we can always enjoy it by trying to do it a bit better than the previous day. If what we do, is really not our calling, we should work towards a change of what we do or try to make what we do our calling. Let us try to ignore the carrots and sticks put up by others and create our own (? ?)
Very true, life is filled with good and bad, or carrots and sticks as you have said. Beautiful writing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:43:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Like this one; bit of humour, bit of sadness, bit of reflection...good mix -SG