‚ÄúThere are no written ways to arrive at this.”
One foot is on the line,
The other is already on the way.
To the end of beginnings,
No more first days.
Packed lunches and size two shoes,
A school teacher teaching you your to dos.

Now you sit in a cubical,
Piles of paper from head to toe.
The ever growing list of to dos,
forever following you.
Blankets over your head,
But the monsters can still get your toes.

Pack their lunches, buy new shoes,
Your children no longer fit in size two shoes.
And before you know it,
You have owned your last pair.
No new trail to hike or story to write,
In the simplest of words you have arrived
at the end.