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The Hill

I've done my climbing, I’ve been to the summit.
No legends created, but been there and done it.
Descending, first slowly, at ease with the world,
Should be easier than the climb, relax inferred.

But, as I walk down that ever steepening hill,
Toward the undeniable, eventual, bitterest pill.
Milestones quicker, a blur, life’s endless reel.
Time inside out, years actually, minutes I feel.

People walking with me, locked in my bubble.
Unchanging, incremental decay, ever so subtle.
People walking up the hill, see us so differently.
As we are, from their perspective, objectively.

That stoop, I've developed, from pushing too hard.
That pain in my back, the stabbing of glass shard.
Just part of what I've become, how did it happen?
Health failing gradually, following life's pattern.

Time flying, everything happening concurrently.
No time to reflect, or to plan, purely space to be.
My journey nearly over, proud I didn't stand still.
I fought and I battled and I have conquered the hill.



Makes me think that ...

The lifecycle of our time at work differs for us in most of its details. However, and despite the number of different careers one may have in that working life, for many there are shared traits about our early days, the middle section, the latter phase and the final stanza. How far does this view of a working life cycle resonate for you?


Lorraine Ansell

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This poem is narrated by Lorraine Ansell​ a British female voice over artist who is graciously supporting WorkInWords.

Screenshot 2019-02-08 16.18.01.png

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