Introspection

Last evening should have been a happy time after dinner. But it turned into a night of sadness. Ours is not to question why or to expect anything for we are told we know them not, even if they are of our flesh and bones. Ours is to work and worry about ageing brains and brawn and forced retirements, to pay the bills and handover more when they overspend and to hope that things turn out ok and that at the end of it all, there are still some crumbs leftover to last till the end of our days. Where is the light at the end of the tunnel?