On this carouselThe scenery sequence repeats2020, 2021, 2022.While our hair turns grayChildren learn to speak, count, and read.We could have done other thingsBut we gave up our youth.Imprisoned by eighty-hour work weeksStudent loans the size of mortgages.With my whole life inI feel a bit powerless.I cannot make change and I cannotWalk away.Having to work harderMeans less timeTo take care of myself,Less time to processThe constant worryI’ll bring it home.My family cannot escape itMy patients cannot escape itMy patience cannot escape itHorses on the carouselAre moving but seem stagnant,I am moving but I feel stagnantThe horses are the shells ofThings I used to do,Relationships I used to have,Empathy I used to have,Now seemingly forever out of reach.