work

how do we come at it again,
where do we find the reserves
to make one more charge,
to wreck ourselves
once more
upon this barren hill;

do we keep lying to ourselves,
in hopes some part of the journey
will change,
why do we believe;

a partial driver is need:
money is the currency of survival,
but we could find it elsewhere;

so what brings us back,
what piece inside us
makes us feel we need
to make this doomed assault
one more time;

the piece that makes 
each of us
who we are

Motivation

who knows
where this will finish,
when it does
all we can do
is make certain
we have prepared,
that we have emptied our tanks
of life and left
our good works behind

knowing that we have
done the work
to lift others -
to help them
find their best selves -

these are the thoughts
that must drive our work -
that carry us -
when the days
present their challenges

Costs

each moment
is another cut
from a knife
held by those who
are supposed to lead;

they stab at us
without respite,
nothing is good enough -
no effort,
no result -
we are always made
to feel wanting;

there is no enough,
there is only more,
demanded from the backs
of those who are broken,
it is the only cost
they aren't concerned about