Poem: When Joy Become Chore

When joy becomes a chore, the sunlight dulls—
once-golden laughter tarnished by routine.
The song that used to dance through open halls
now hums behind a curtain, tired, unseen.

The cup of sweetness, sipped too many times,
grows bitter not from taste but from demand;
each smile rehearsed, each cheer arranged in lines,
a puppet’s wave, a bow the crowd has planned.

The heart forgets the pulse of its own thrill,
confuses have to with the want that burned;
and what was once a climb of sudden will
becomes a march on paths too well-returned.

Yet somewhere, under ashes, embers glow—
a spark that waits for wind, for space to grow.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie