Ethic

There have been days when I have sat
Quietly down and gone to work;
Days when the world did not seem flat
And I had no desire to shirk
My duties or my tasks. Those days
Were lovely, and I would not lose
Their memory for anything
But now they are lost in the haze
Of snow and ice. I did not choose
To let them go. If I could bring
Them back, I would, but life moves on
And I no longer wish to try
To keep up with it; they are gone
And I, when told to work, ask why.